


Release Chapter 1

by Ratatosk



Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series, Pitch Black / Riddick
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-24
Updated: 2007-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 35,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratatosk/pseuds/Ratatosk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>Three days</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Three days_

_Three days_

Three days. He had left New Mecca three days ago. The last year was fading like a dream.

He had left on a commercial transport. One last effort at playing nice for the old man. There were tears in little Jack's eyes as she bravely wished him good luck with life. He could almost still feel her soft kiss on his cheek. She clearly thought she'd never see him again. Smart kid.

Very first stop was another planet in the system. Hadn't been hard at all to slip off. Found a ship he wanted. Took the ship he wanted. For old time's sake, he tasted the blood of former owner. It was strangely flat and tasteless. He disposed of the body quietly.

He slept that night in the dead man's bed, drenched in the dead man's scent. Woke from a dream that he was that man, being killed by something he couldn't see, couldn't fight. Woke up roaring. Looking for something else to kill. But there was no one there.

 _If she'd been here . . ._

He shook off the dark thought. Sleep called him back to bed, be damned if he was going to be beaten by stink.

This time, the dream was more . . . insinuating. Jack was with him again, all grown up, all hard and cold and glittering. His soul, reflected in female form. They were fighting, fucking, rolling, falling – and then she was a little girl again, all hope and promise, and then she was falling off a cliff, and he just watched her fall. Heard the wet crunch of her bones at the bottom. He turned and walked, alone, away from the edge.

Then Carolyn was there. Beautiful, stupid Carolyn. Glaring at him. "Not for you. I wasn't supposed to die for you. She wasn't supposed to die for you. You asshole. Go back and do it right this time."

He turned from her and walked into the darkness. Right into Johns. "You thought you were so slick. You thought you were so . . . inhuman. And then some little lady spins your head around and you go all soft. That's why I'll catch you. That's why I will always catch you."

Then she was there again, and they were running, together, away from a wall of flame, and he saw her fall, sucked under the flames like a child sucked into a riptide. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do.

He was half way to the cockpit to turn the ship around, go back, take her back, before good sense reasserted itself. To take her was to kill her. And he didn't want to see her die.

It was a good ship. Solid. New. New equipment. New cryo set up. Decided to try it out. Might be able to get some distance. Might be able to escape the dreams for a while.

He set the destination almost at random. He'd wake up soon anyway. He always did. He always did.

 **0o0**

Now, Riddick was fighting giant things with many tentacles, many legs, chittering mouths. Monsters that just kept coming, ravening jaws crammed with teeth. Just him and them, fighting. It was wonderful.

Then he fell. Kept falling. Kept falling.

Riddick woke up abruptly, still feeling the fall. _What the fuck?_

He was, improbably, in something that resembled a cave. Alone. The room was dimly lit, and he was lying in a hospital bed.

Last thing he remembered was stealing a ship, getting into cryo for a temporary escape from dreams. Dim memory of the dreams finding him. His clothes felt strange, desiccated and slightly greasy all at once. Like they had aged. _Damn. Where am I? How long was I out?_

He felt like he'd been asleep for years. Cryo never worked for long before . . .

 _Guess it did this time. Long enough to get caught. Damn._

 _Jack. Is Jack okay?_

 _Not your problem, asshole_

He took stock. No injuries. They hadn't disarmed him, that was weird. Still had his goggles. He slipped them on, peered around, almost able to see in a normal spectrum with these shades. Room seemed to have been carved out of rock.

 _Gotta get out. Find Jack . . ._ Shook his head. Why was he thinking of her? He'd left her safe on New Mecca almost a week ago . . .

Almost? Maybe more. _Maybe a lot more._

Never mind. He could check up on her when he got out of here.

 _No. Gotta stay away from her._

 _No. Gotta make sure she's safe._

Deal with it later. Might as well try the door. . .

* * *

 **0o0**

Before he got there, the door opened, and a man walked in. No fear in him. Young, professional, a little weary, utterly unarmed, slightly surprised. "You're awake."

Riddick just stared at him. This was not making sense.

The man smiled, with a belated hint of warmth and welcome. "Sorry I wasn't here, I just didn't expect you to wake up so fast."

Riddick stared at him blankly. "Do you know who I am?" he finally asked, softly.

"Cyrus Borson, they tell me."

Cyrus Borson. The owner of the ship. The last man he'd killed. They thought he was him. Amusing. "Where's my ship?"

"I don't know. I just got here. My name is Simon. You were dropped off here quite a while ago." Incongruously, the man flushed, as if embarrassed about something. He sat down on the chair. Still no fear in him. "Look, something went wrong with your ship, and you were in cryosleep for a long time. Some folks brought you in. This was the nearest medical facility.

"The good news is that you're absolutely fine." The doctor hesitated.

"The bad news?"

"You've lost eight years. And you're, well, here."

 _Eight years._

The doctor sighed, looked old. "Look, I'm not going to sugar coat this. You're in the 'Infernal World.' It's a glorified labor camp. You can contact your people, see if they can buy you a ticket out of here. We already sent notice to your last port of call, so it might be taken care of. It's not a charity camp; until you leave, you'll have to work. Get script you can exchange for 'life's necessities.' Food, supplies, whatever." He blushed at that last word. "You save up enough, you can cash out, leave. But frankly, most people don't."

 _Sent word. I need to leave before that word comes back._ "You don't look . . . labor camp material."

The man blushed again. "Part of the medical residency. I drew the short straw. Still, miners get interesting injuries sometimes."

 _Medical student. Newby._ "Ah."

There was a crash. The doctor blanched. "Excuse me." He ran out. After a pause, Riddick followed.

The doctor was confronting four very well armed, very drugged, men, carrying medical supplies. He was pleading. "We need these. We won't get another supply run for weeks."

"Not our problem, you ponce," the largest growled. Shoved the doctor hard. Not quite sure what he was doing, Riddick moved in between them.

"Not nice to push people."

"We're not nice people."

"I see."

As if to prove the point, the leader pulled a knife, rushed Riddick. He side stepped him, knocked him to the ground lazily. Another man was rushing the doctor. Him, he killed, knife to the back of the neck. It was good to get the muscles working again.

"You fucker!" All three rushed him. And then all three were dead. Knife through the lungs, knife up the gut, severed jugular.

The doctor was gasping. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Riddick helped him up. The doctor clung to him for an instant, then pushed away. "You saved my life. Anything I can ever do-"

Riddick gave him a friendly smile, and tried the door. It opened easily. He peered around. Network of tunnels. There were people there. It was dark. Subdued.

He eased down the hall. The people he could sense smelled small, trivial. The rocky ceiling was low. A slight smell of chlorine and urine and sweat. No blood, no rot . . .

All right. Been here before, essentially. Figure out who had the keys, charm them or kill them, and figure out how to get out of here. _Maybe take the doctor; he was going to get eaten alive here. Now where the fuck did that thought come from?_

* * *

 **0o0**

Another day. Things weren't so bad here. Food was good. No chains. Well, not literal chains; the company provided food, whores, whatever you wanted, at rates guaranteed to keep you underground forever. At least no one seemed to know or care who he was.

But he still needed to leave before word came back from New Mecca; word that might prove he was not Cyrus Borson, if someone was smart enough to send a picture or DNA. If they had, that might even link him to the old guy and Jack.

 _Jack_.

 _Jack_. Why he was hesitating. Because he couldn't stop thinking of her. Couldn't stop thinking of all the ways she could have died, could have been hurt, could have _changed_ while he slept.

Change. She must have changed; if nothing else, she couldn't have stayed fifteen forever.

What would be better? That she'd relaxed into the role of an upper middle class brat, safe and spoiled? Or maybe she'd done what she had once threatened, come after him? That was the nightmare. That she'd followed him into the dark. That she was lost, somewhere, in the dark and he could spend the rest of his life fighting those fucking giant spiders, looking for her.

One good thing about being scooped up and brought here; it was unlikely she had been dragged into the dark as bait. He was almost grateful to who ever it was who collected him, taken him here. They might have saved her. . .

Or maybe she was just a good person, on a good planet, with a good life. That's what he wanted for her, for some fucked up reason. But that was the life he could destroy if he got anywhere near her.

And once he left here, he would.

The people here were like ghosts. Unreal. Unsubstantial. Less pressing than the air. He made himself a nest in the dark, far away from them. Killed a few people for their bedding; seemed the easiest thing.

He made the bed soft. Remembered how much she liked soft.


	2. Release Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next day. Met a man. An old man. Said his name was Tiresias. Seemed unlikely. Found Riddick in some place dark, private. Offered him a drink out of a flask. Something sharp and intoxicating. Didn't see any profit in killing him immediately.

The next day. Met a man. An old man. Said his name was Tiresias. Seemed unlikely. Found Riddick in some place dark, private. Offered him a drink out of a flask. Something sharp and intoxicating. Didn't see any profit in killing him immediately.

"Got a story for you."

Riddick shrugged.

"I knew a man, once. Name of Richard B. Riddick. Looked a little like you."

Riddick said nothing.

"He was a wild one. Served in Her Majesty's navy. A commando. A good one. Until one day. They say he killed . . . well, that's not part of today's story."

Man took a swig of his drink, offered it to Riddick. After a moment's hesitation, Riddick took another sip.

"He was a bad mother, lemme tell you."

Riddick looked at him, reconsidering whether he should kill him.

"While back, I heard a new story. That he'd been captured, but the ship crashed. Maybe he sabotaged it. Dunno.

"But something happened. He went back to being a soldier. He ended up saving a couple of folks, they say. An old guy and a young boy. Saved them. Took care of them. Got them someplace safe.

"Then he disappeared, I hear."

The man eyed Riddick closely. "Like maybe he got his redemption."

"I heard it was a girl."

"What?"

"I heard he saved a girl, not a boy."

The older man guffawed, slapped his back.

 **0o0**

The next day. Weirdly, he was good at mining. He seemed to know where the veins were. He followed them deep down.

Something was tickling the edge of his awareness. Someone screaming deep in the mines, the sound faintly worming its way through the rocks. A woman's screams. That surprised him; he'd seen no women down below. There was a brothel, with women, but that was their only presence here. He ignored the echoes at first.

But when they did not stop, he found himself easing his way. The screams turned to a quiet sobbing, then stopped. But it was not hard to follow the smell of blood soaking into the ground.

She was dead and nearly drained into the sands. A man on top of her, anyway. Five men near by. He watched, marking their features. The man on top – clearly in charge, finished, pulled his pants back up, spat on the corpse. Saw Riddick. Grinned. "She's still warm, if you want a go."

Riddick shook his head, slowly.

"'m Crustus. You?" He walked forward, hand out.

Riddick ignored the question, and the hand. "Didn't know there were girls down this deep."

Crustus frowned, put his hand down. "Not many. But you can get anything you want if you know the right people."

"Hmmm. Are you the right people?"

"You know it. And who are you?"

"No one special." He faded back into the darkness. Completely glad, for the first time, he hadn't given into temptation, brought Jack with him. She might have been here, now. A little girl in the dark, surrounded by monsters.

Two of the six men were dead before the next morning. Three more the next night. _Crustus is gonna be fun to kill_.

 **0o0**

Two days later. The air was different. New people were moving through the tunnels. Rumors were cascading through the rock.

Slave traders, some said. Military recruiters, others said. People would sign up for either sometimes, if they had no talent for mining. Or maybe a colonial corporation, looking for a group of throwaway men to test the terraforming of some new world.

It all happened, from time to time, other miners said. Riddick stayed out of the way. Stayed underneath. Not ready to leave this place. Until he was hailed by an old hiss into the darkness. Tiresias. "They're looking for Riddick."

"So?" he replied, softly.

"They got a girl with them. Say she's for Riddick. Present."

The hair on the back of his neck rose. Riddick eyed the man carefully. "Tell me about her."

"Young. Pretty. Scared. Getting lots of attention."

"She wanna be here?"

"Don't think so. Soldier boys got a tight hold."

 _Time to go._

He eased out of the lower levels, gathering information as he went. Seems the uniforms were organized. One team, in no hurry, making its way through the mine. They were scanning the crowds, looking for someone. _Him_. He kept to the shadows, catching occasional glimpses. Curious.

He made sure he saw her first. He was still unsure what to do. If she really was the same girl. If she had become a merc, like she threatened once. What sort of trap this was.

She was in the center of seven heavily armed men; men wearing brown and green uniforms, with oak clusters on their collars. Military. He didn't recognize the insignia. She was wearing the same browns and greens as the soldiers, stripped of rank markings. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. He'd tried to teach Jack how to slip those cuffs. One of the soldiers kept a hand on her arm. Professional. Careful. Like he was afraid she'd bolt.

Bolt with her hands bound behind her into an underground labor camp full of men barely better than monsters. _Huh_.

He stalked their search. Torn. The girl was beautiful. Graceful. _Familiar._ Afraid, but not unreasonably so, given what would happen to her underground without the men guarding her. The leader kept calling that he just wanted to talk. That they had a job for Riddick. That they had a present for Riddick.

 **0o0**

It was bound to happen, in a place like this. The little group was attacked. They responded in military order. Two soldiers grazed, twenty miners on the ground, dead or stunned, fast.

The leader of the soldiers turned to the girl, his voice rough, angry. "Any of these him?"

He could see her bite her lip, survey the fallen. She shook her head. "No."

"We don't have time for this. Kill them all."

It was done. The woman looked sick. Would Jack look sick? He'd seen her kill . . . He needed to get closer. But he was peering through a crack in the walls of a tunnel that ran parallel; he'd have to loose sight of them to find a connecting tunnel. He felt reluctant to do that.

The leader was speaking low enough that even Riddick had trouble hearing him. "I'm done indulging you. Two of my men were hurt. Call him."

The girl gave him a dirty look, but said nothing. The officer sighed, exasperated. "Riddick!" he man called out, his voice ringing off the walls. "You were a soldier once. You're needed now. One last mission, and all your sins will be forgiven. And you'll get the girl. Call her a present from a grateful people."

The echo of his voice faded into silence. He sighed. Turned on the woman who could be Jack. "I'm sure he's here. Scream."

She shook her head. "I won't lead him into a trap."

 _Interesting._

"This isn't a trap. This is an offer."

She snorted. "Yeah right."

The officer sighed again. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it would look like a trap. New plan. We'll let you do it. You find him. You bring him to the comptroller's office in the next three days, or we will leave you here."

She was shaking her head, trying to pull away from the soldier holding her. She couldn't. She muttered, "Asshole."

Riddick smiled, slightly. That sounded like Jack. His doubts were fading. And she could be fun to get to know, either way.

"Yes. One more thing." He gestured, and the man holding her uncuffed her wrists. The officer lifted her right hand, almost gently, ignoring her attempts to get away. A knife appeared. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding like he might mean it.

Then he sliced her hand open. She made a mewling sound, tried to press her hand to her chest to staunch the blood. He wouldn't let her. Her spilling blood perfumed the air. The scent was transporting. That's why Cyrus's blood tasted so flat. He'd smelled better. He wanted better.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Her voice was thick with pain and fear.

"I'm told he can smell your blood. It will help you two . . . hook up. So you can communicate our offer. Or stay here in the dark for the rest of your short life."

 _Told? Who told?_ She seemed to be getting control. Her voice was woeful. "I don't understand what you want."

"It's simple. Something he's good at. He kills a man. We wipe his record, make him a rich man." The man smiled down at her sardonically, "And he gets the girl."

"Okay. Give me back my knife, I'll tell him."

"Why would we do that?"

"You haven't seen the looks I'm getting? I'm no good to you dead, or-" she flushed, looked sick, continued "or locked in a cave. And he gave that knife to me. He'll recognize it. He may not recognize me; it's been a long time."

So much like Jack, all grown up . . . could he really have slept so long? Eight years made no sense. But he smell of her blood was the song of a siren. He could not move away.

The earnest cadet who was holding her broke in. "I'll stay with her."

The commander shook his head. "It's not safe. Many of these men are hardened criminals, hiding from the law."

"Sir, if it's not safe for me, how could it possibly be safe for her?"

"That, cadet, is not our problem." The officer hesitated, then allowed, grudgingly, "you can leave her your pack, Luke."

With that, the soldiers left, the earnest cadet casting woeful backwards glances. He was the last to leave, and as he did, he dropped two objects on the sands. Jack – if it was Jack – grabbed for them. A knife and a pouch. She pawed through the pouch, found water, drank thirstily. Made Riddick's hackles rise. _They'd kept her thirsty?_

A sound. Crustus and new friends already picking their way over the corpses. _Have to be him, wouldn't it?_ The girl he half believed was Jack was backing away. _Time to say hello._


	3. Release Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Little girl, we just want to be friends. We won't hurt you if you don't give us a reason to . . ." Crustus was crooning.

"Little girl, we just want to be friends. We won't hurt you if you don't give us a reason to . . ." Crustus was crooning.

"Right. You're just a handsome prince in disguise."

Riddick smiled, in spite of himself. Crustus kept talking. "I've heard of Riddick. You really Riddick's girl?"

"Maybe. Once upon a time . . _._ " _Once upon a time_. He was halfway through the tunnels before the sounds of a fight began.

The girl, whoever she was, wasn't bad. Fast, controlled, strong. They were undisciplined. But she clearly had not been in many real fights. She dropped Crustus quickly with an aikido move that sent him crashing him into a stone wall, left him moaning on the ground. In a fair fight with any one of them, she might have won, but they were many, and now they were angry. She didn't want to hurt them. They wanted to hurt her.

Trivially easy to rise up from behind, slash and stab. Until at last, it was only the two of them, standing over the bodies of the slain, Crustus behind her, still moaning.

He gripped her arm warmly, smiled down. She blinked up at him with some of that look of shocked adoration he had missed so much. Without letting her go, he stepped past her, forcing her to turn. Looked down at Crustus thoughtfully. Put one booted foot on the man's throat, watching amused as he froze. Gently rolled that foot. Met maybe-Jack's eyes. "Incapacitate without killing. Nicely done."

He stepped down hard. The man's neck broke with a satisfyingly wet snap. "Not quite my style."

She shuddered, but did not resist him at all as he cupped her small face in one hand, lifted her still bleeding hand in the other. Held it close to his face, considering whether to taste . . .

"Riddick?" she whispered, her voice wondering, her eyes huge. Less adoration. More fear. His smile broadened. She looked very much like Jack. Deliberately, he lowered her hand, wrapped the arm around her. Smiled down at her.

"So you're my birthday present?"

Her cheeks flaming, she tried to jerk away from him. "Don't you remember me?"

He put a massive finger on her lips shook his head, shouldered the bag the soldiers dropped. Pulled her down darkening tunnels too fast for speech.

When he finally stopped, she asked, breathless, her voice cracking. "Riddick?"

He smiled down on her again, gently, in the dimness. He took the familiar knife from her, still gentle. She still didn't resist. Then he shoved her into the wall, only slightly harder than he had to, pinning her. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Don't you remember me?" She repeated, her voice cracking again. "I'm Jack. From the Hunter-Grazner. You saved me . . . "

He shook his head, slowly. "Jack was a little girl. You're all grown up."

"People do that, Riddick." Her voice was a whisper.

 _Eight years . . ._ Almost against his will, he started to feel her face, stroking her neck. It really could be Jack. It smelled like Jack. He buried his face in her hair, inhaled deeply. It smelled incongruously of gardenias. A scent he remembered on her . . .

A thoughtless gesture. When she cautiously started letting her hair grow out he bought her shampoo. It happened to be scented with gardenias. The same smell hung on her now. Just chance? Had she kept using it out of some sort of attachment? Was this another way to manipulate him?

It would fade soon, here. He started rolling her hair in his hand, releasing more of the scent, lost in memories . . .

She was trying to pull away. "Riddick. You're scaring me." He could feel her heart beat hammering through him, the smell of very female fear.

 _She thinks I'm going to rape her._

 _If she stays here, someone will._

 _Might as well be me._

He took one last deep breath, enjoying the scent of her hair. Eased back slightly."My Jack . . . Why would my Jack be afraid of me?"

"It's been a long time, Riddick."

"Long time . . ." He stretched the words out. Enjoying the feel of her body pressed against him, disorienting in its adulthood. _Eight years. Right. Anything could have happened to you. You could . . . be okay. Grown up. Married. Have children._

"I left my Jack in New Mecca. Safe." His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you're my Jack, why aren't you there, safe?" He was drowning in the scent of her neck, the blood so familiar, so close. He believed it was her, almost completely . . .

She was talking. Fast. Slightly hysterical. He was having trouble listening. "I don't want to be here. But they arrested me as an accessory to murder, took me . . . " her voice choked off into a sob. "I always thought that might happen. They took me to the space port, handed me over to those soldiers . . . I tried to fight when I realized they weren't taking me the right place, but they drugged me . . . " She couldn't seem to finish. He waited a generous amount of time. Enjoying the feel of her heartbeat, hammering in a chest pressed against him.

Finally, he whispered roughly into her ear. "Jack. If you are my Jack. You messed up my plan."

"What plan?"

"To stay away from you."

She went completely still. "What do you mean?"

He gazed down, feeling oddly tender towards her. _His Jack._ If it was his Jack. He shook his head, said only, "Come on." He took her hand almost like they were lovers strolling on a boardwalk, led her through the dimly lit tunnels.

After a long time, she asked, carefully, "Where are we going?"

"See a doctor."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Sew your hand up. Check you out."

"Oh." She seemed to be calming down. She kept stealing awed glances at him. "That's not the only reason, is it?"

He gave her a sardonic look. "No. Gotta make sure you're you."

A sharp inhalation of breath. "And if I'm not?"

He stopped. Backed her toward a cave wall. She tried to stand her ground this time, so he simply picked her up and placed her, carefully, against the hard surface.

"If you're not Jack . . ." his voice dropped to a whisper. He pulled off the goggles, redundant in the dim, gazed deeply into her eyes. She didn't flinch from the silver. "If you're not _my_ Jack . . ." He shook his head, slowly. "Then . . . we'll just have to find out."

"And if you decide I _am_ . . . your . . . Jack?"

"Hmmm . . ."

He gazed down into her eyes, smiled, beatifically. Leaned close enough to taste her breath.

"Then I'll take care of you . . ."

She took a deep shuddering breath. Seemed about to say something. Changed her mind. He backed off, but regained control of her small hand. Set an easy pace through the corridors.

After a long time she said, with a voice that was overly aware of the inanity of the question, "How have you been?"

He shrugged eloquently.

She tried again. "Where have you been?"

"Around." He could tell she was hurt by how unresponsive his answer was. Feeling indulgent, he elaborated, "In space, mostly."

"Oh. You look . . . good."

"Good cryosleep. Most of the time in cryo."

"You've got a ship? Where'dya get a ship?" She sounded slightly affronted. _Right. Probably wondering why we didn't go in one ship, instead of hitching all over the galaxy._

 _Might as well tell her the truth. Or part of it._ "Killed a guy. Convinced the ship I was him." She shuddered, again. _Interesting_. Not just the sight of death, the thought of it, bothered her now. Guess she hadn't grown up hardened after all.

"So . . . you're still killing people then?" Her voice was cautious.

He shrugged. "Sometimes. You?"

"I've been trying to give that up."

He couldn't help smiling.

"Who . . . who did you kill for the ship?" Her voice was strangely small.

He thought about not answering. Finally, "Some guy named Cyrus Borson."

"That's him. The guy I – the guy they arrested me killing." She sounded sorrowful, as if she was mourning this man she had never met. When he said nothing, she continued. "Cyrus. That's weird."

"Mmm?"

"Before I picked 'Jack' I almost went with Cyrus. It's the male form of my real name, Kyra." There was almost a note of defiance in that last word. He shrugged, noncommittally.

She kept talking, sounding more like her old self all the time. "It means 'sun,' you know. You killed the sun and stole his chariot. Kinda a shitty thing to do." He gave her an amused glance, but said nothing.

After a long time, he finally asked, offhandedly, "Howya been?"

She laughed, slightly hysterical. "I'm good. I was - I'm learning to do terraforming."

 _Huh. Wouldn't have thought that._ "Good for you." Didn't follow it up.

Again, she filled the silence. "Then today I was arrested for murder, handed over to strangers, tied up, almost gang raped, and now the guy who is the closest thing to a big brother I've ever had isn't sure I'm me and might just kill me depending on what some labor camp doctor says."

He gave her another amused look. "Mmm. Not the bestest day ever, then."

Her voice went serious. "Five years ago – it would have been. Three years, even . . . " She went quiet. Finally, she squeezed his hand, seemed to gather herself. "Wither thou goest. I missed you so much you big monster. I almost forgot how much. I used to dream . . . " She broke off, shakily.

 _Dreams . . ._ "Mmmmm."

"Did you . . . did you miss me?" Her voice was small again.

He gave her a look. Stopped. Kept her hand, slipped the other arm around her waist. "Every fucking day." _All ten of them_.

Her breath caught. She gave him a beautiful smile, melted against him, wordlessly. Nice.


	4. Release Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The doctor was there. He grasped Riddick's hand warmly. "My friend. What can I do for you?"

The doctor was there. He grasped Riddick's hand warmly. "My friend. What can I do for you?"

Riddick gestured at Jack. "Old friend of mine. Maybe. Like you to sew up her hand, check her out."

"Of course. Ma'am." He gave her a friendly smile, gestured her to the exam bed. She sat cautiously. "I'm Dr. Simon. Is there anything in particular bothering you?"

Jack gave Riddick a glance, her fear flooding back. Riddick smiled, all friendly, keeping a hand on her. "Someone knocked her out. Wanna know if they did anything to her. Changed her. Put something inside her." Jack's eyes were big again as the doctor tut-tutted over her hand. Had some equipment Riddick hadn't seen before, took very little time and the wound was effectively sealed.

"Lay down, please." She did, her body stiff. The doctor passed a small piece of equipment over her, slowly, several times. "Roll over, please." She did. He paused at the back of her neck, started adjusting controls.

"I don't see any evidence of alteration." His lips pursed. Shot Riddick's a measuring glance. "There is something . . . were you ever a prisoner? Or a slave?"

She spun over, fast, sat up, offended. "No."

"Let me try something." He adjusted a control. She convulsed hard and screamed a scream that knifed through the room. She tried to throw herself at the doctor, but convulsed again, falling. Riddick caught her, barely. She was gasping, crying, scrabbling at him with hands not under her control. He put her down on the exam table. She wrapped her arms and legs around him like she was a monkey.

The doctor didn't seem surprised, which put Riddick's teeth on edge. He caught the doctor's wrist hard. "Fix. It."

The doctor gave him a queerly hurt look, nodded. Riddick let him go. The doctor grabbed something from a shelf, gave her a shot from a hypo. Her muscles relaxed involuntarily. She buried her face in his chest even harder and shook, small spasms still ripping through her.

The doctor seemed oddly unmoved. "I accidentally triggered her control chip."

"It hurts. Get it out of me." Her voice was muffled into Riddick's chest. He kept his arms around her carefully.

The doctor didn't even look at her. Instead, his eyes were on Riddick. "I can't do that."

"Why?" Riddick's voice was gentle, but something in his aspect must have communicated itself to the doctor. His hands shook slightly.

"First, if it was put in there legally, it would be illegal for me to take it out. Second, without the access code, I try, and she'll die screaming."

Riddick contemplated that for a moment. Contemplated the girl in his arms. "Tell me more."

The doctor swallowed, seeming at last to recognize the danger in the air. "They have been used for control of slaves for a long time. Only recently legalized in the Alliance, for prisoners. Gives the guards access right into the nervous system. Pain, immobility, pleasure – huge amount of control, without ever putting a guard at risk. Very useful. Very humane."

"Humane." Riddick laid Jack back onto the exam table, carefully. Her face was wet with tears. She started to grab for him. He let her.

She turned her tear stained face to the doctor. "I swear, I've never been a prisoner, lawfully, I've never been a - a slave, I'm a citizen of a civilization. I am a citizen of New Mecca, there's no slavery and no prisons . . . We rehabilitate people, there. We don't do things like this. Please get it out of me. Please." Her voice cracked.

The doctor was shaking his head, backing away. Riddick stopped him with a look.

"You sure, doctor?"

Simon swallowed, again. "I'll take another look." Picked up the scanner again. "Roll over," he instructed Jack. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the doctor and the scanner. Finally, she complied, reluctantly.

"Hm. There's a data chip in here." He punched a few buttons. "Two entries." Riddick squinted to read the small screen.

"What does it say?" Jack asked, sounding very small again. Almost without thinking, Riddick put a hand on her back. She relaxed, slightly.

The doctor read out loud. "The first one says 'Jack abu-Walid. Charged as an accessory to the murder of - " the doctor broke off, gave Riddick a look of shocked understanding, "of Cyrus Borson of Helion Secundus. Material witness to several more. Known associate of convicted killer, Richard B. Riddick. Should be considered dangerous. If found, 50,000 credit reward for return to any Interpol office.'"

The doctor took a deep breath. Looked at Riddick, with actual fear in his eyes. Riddick shrugged. "And the other one?"

There was a pause as the doctor punched a few controls. "Looks like only one of these is supposed to be visible, but someone messed up the coding . . . Oh, here we go. It's short." He paused again. "Oh. 'Property of Richard B. Riddick.'" He gave Riddick a quick look, turned back to Jack. "I'm sorry, girl. Whether or not you know it, in most of the galaxy you'll be considered a -" he broke off at Riddick's dark look. "I'm sorry. You can sit up now."

 _There it is. The deal. Do what we want, you get the girl. Literally. Don't, and she ends up in prison for murders you did, or some slave brothel._

 _Someone knows me. Somebody knows me too well._ He gazed down at Jack, suddenly speculative. Wondering who might know him that well.

She met his gaze. Something awful passed over her features. _She really does know me. Shit._ Then her eyes flickered towards the doctor, widened, her mouth opened -

Doctor. Right. He'd lost track of the doctor. Bonelessly, he intercepted the man's intruding hand, knocked a hypo to the ground. Yanked the man's arms behind him, shoved his face hard down on the metal exam table next to Jack. She pulled back like she didn't want the man to touch her. Without letting go, Riddick crouched, scooped up the hypo. Examined it thoughtfully. Placed it against the man's neck. "What's this, doctor?"

"I'm sorry. Just a sedative. I thought – I didn't know you were a killer. I'm just – I thought – tell those soldiers-"

"And her?"

The doctor looked shifty. "Get her out of here. She won't last long here."

 _And she'd be worth a lot if you could sell her._ "Hm." Riddick let the sound linger in the air. "So if I inject you with this, what happens?"

The doctor relaxed, slightly. "I'll sleep for a few days."

 _A few days?_ "Hm." He looked over at Jack, still lost in abject misery. He felt charitable. "Your way or my way, kid?"

She searched his face. "My way."

"Your lucky day doc. She's into this whole minimum force shit." He jammed the hypo into the doctor's throat, none too gently, triggered it. The doctor's muscles went slack. Riddick picked him up, laid him on the next exam bed, tucked a blanket around him. Jack watched him, carefully, seeming slightly less miserable. After he finished, he picked up the doctor's scanner, scanned the bag she had been carrying. Finding it clean, _the stupid fucks,_ he filled it with some supplies, as much to give her a chance to collect herself as anything. Finally, he turned on Jack, offered her a hand. She took it silently. He led her out of the clinic silently, pulled her gently into the darkness.

Still wondering who knew him this well.


	5. Release Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After they had walked silently a long time, she cleared her throat. "Some of the people researching Apep came to talk to me."

After they had walked silently a long time, she cleared her throat. "Some of the people researching Apep came to talk to me."

He shrugged, noncommittally.

"I mean that planet. The one we crashed on. They named it Apep."

He grunted. "Sorta figured they'd name it Mitchell or Fry or somethin'."

She dropped into didactic mode. "Old tradition. We name planets for gods."

He said nothing. She was prattling, nervous, as if she was trying to distract herself. He let her babble, listening more for the sounds of others than to her. "Apep was an old god. Patron of evil and darkness. Appeared like a crocodile, or a snake. Guess our descriptions of the monsters sounded like flying crocodiles. Egyptian priests used to bring out a statute of one every year, beat it and bury it to symbolically destroy evil."

He continued to say nothing. "Did you ever think about it? We didn't see a single plant, only animal life. So what do they all eat? And all that light, all that power, yet everyone lives underground? Does that make sense? It's not like that, most times, most places. Turns out we just landed at exactly the wrong time, at exactly the wrong place. Like someone didn't like us." Her voice clouded.

 _Dunno. Worked out for me in the end,_ he thought. Smiled down on her, glad she couldn't see him in the now complete darkness. Pulled off his goggles, pocketed them. Squeezed her fingers.

She squeezed back, seemingly pathetically grateful. Her voice was growing more animated, hopeful, as if she was talking about a boyfriend or pet she adored, as if she wasn't deep underground, too far from home. As if she wasn't holding hands with a monster. She babbled on. "Anyway, there's a theory that it was a terraforming attempt that went terribly, terribly wrong. It would have been edgy – most life needs night, so they must have had to tinker like crazy with the genes, deep down. Whatever they were going for, if that's what happened, the whole thing spiraled out of control. The current ecosystem is evolving fast; nothing close to a homeostasis. There's a group there now, studying it. They flew out to talk to me and Abu several times. They gave me this." She pulled a necklace out of her shirt, handed it to him blindly with a shy smile.

He stared at it blankly for a moment before he understood what it was. Bone, human bone, carved into a cross with circle on the top.

He gave her a sharp look. "Did they tell you what this is?"

"It's an ankh. Symbol of life." Her face was guileless.

He raised it to his face, gave it a cautious smell.

It smelled like Jack. He considered tasting it, trying to figure out whose bones it had been, but the innocent look on her face made him hesitate.

 _You don't know it's from that fuckin' planet. And even if it was, it could be anybody._ He started to hand it back, thought better of it, put it around her neck himself. Let his fingers play along the back of her neck, thoughtfully. She smiled at him. "I'm sure they would love to talk to you; you probably saw more than Abu and I did."

He snorted. _Right. Go talk to creepy geeks about flying monsters._ Gave her a look. Noticed that she didn't look hopeful or animated any more.

 _Damn. Is she always going to be that touchy?_

 _Give her a break, the day's been rough._

"Don't think that's in the cards, Jackie," he said softly.

Abruptly, her tone changed, becoming more resolute. "What are in the cards? Do you – do you believe I'm me now?"

"Yeah."

"So . . . now what?"

He thought about that for a while. "I told you. I'm going to take care of you."

She snorted. He snorted back. She actually giggled, faintly. Like some of her misery was fading. The sound was very girlish –

 _Wait._ A noise. Other people. He didn't want to deal with people. He pulled her into the edges of the cavern, mostly hidden among stark rock formations. Placed his right hand over her mouth, gently, his left arm around her waist, pinning her to him. "Shhhh . . ." he breathed into her ear. She nodded, slowly. He let his right hand slide down her arm, fascinated by the long bones, the musculature, the texture of her skin. He let his hand come to rest below her elbow. Gripped her lower arm affectionately. He could sense her confusion.

Still, she stood quiet, trusting, and soon enough, voices came into the normal range, light spilling in front of them. The first was petulant, childish. "But I need it."

"You'll never get outta here if you keep spendin' all your money on whores."

"What else is there? Crustus's between girls."

The other man grunted. "Just do without. And it's not right, what he does, to them. Not right. Least the whores are professionals. Crustus usually ends up with refugee kids, and they don't last."

They were so close Riddick could see their heat signatures preceding them down the cavern. The shock wave of their flashlights on the ground was nearly physically painful without his goggles. He forced his perspective to change, and could see the eddies they spawning in the air. He could see everything. More monsters stretched out through time and space.

Then they were there, so close that one step, he could kill both of them. He went very still, his hand back over Jack's mouth, deliberately. Enjoyed the feel of her breath over his fingers. Forced perspective one more time, and they were people, sacks of flesh and shit barely contained by dirty skin.

"Don't make it right," the softer of the men emphasized.

"Pussy."

"Asshole."

Then they were gone, the disturbance they left in the air fading away. Riddick stood still a long time, waiting for them to get far away. Enjoying the feel of Jack's skin, her heart beat thrumming through him.

Finally, reluctantly, he let her go, though he kept her hand. Led her away into the pitch darkness of the lower caverns. She was silent now, concentrating on her footing. She seemed to remember how to walk in darkness; foot down before placing weight upon on, but it wasn't effortless any more.

Jack stayed quiet, subdued, for a long time. Finally, she asked, softly, "why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Hide from those guys."

He felt a spark of irritation at her. Enough that he dropped her hand and slid away, leaving her standing alone in the darkness.

She took a few faltering steps in his general direction. He eluded her easily.

"Riddick?" She called, too loud.

He stayed silent, watching her.

She turned around blindly, reaching out, trying to find him. "Are you there?" She took another convulsive step in the pitch blackness, now away from him. Her heart was beating so hard he could feel it. Her fear made the air taste sweet.

He waited. He watched. She took another step, and then another.

"Riddick?" she whispered, her voice cracking. She took one more faltering step away.

 _That's far enough._ Two steps and he was close enough to snap her neck. Breathed into an ear, softly, "it's very dark down here, Jackie."

She almost crumpled in relief. He wrapped an arm around her midriff, pulled her securely against himself. Enjoyed her soft trembling. Enjoyed the anticipation.

"Riddick?" She whispered, sounding very small.

He rubbed his face against her soft cheek. "It's very dark here, Jackie," he repeated, low and rough. "And if they'd seen you, I would have had to let you go. Little girl, lost in the dark. . . "

She flinched. "Please, Riddick. . . "

"Lost in the dark. While I killed them. Because if they told anyone . . . " He let his voice trail off. Nuzzled her again.

She shivered. Something splashed on his arm. A tear. She was crying so silently he hadn't noticed. He smiled and wrapped his other arm across her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. Pinning her to him even tighter.

"Do you want me to let you go, Jackie?"

"No," she said, faintly. Still trembling. Still soft. Very scared.

He ground his pelvis into the small of her back, slowly. "You're a prize, Jackie. Men here will fight to take you." He let go of her waist, let that hand play up the front seam of her military uniform, back down again. He let that hand linger between her thighs. Pressed his fingers down. Her breath grew ragged. It would be so easy to take her right here . . .

"Kallisti. For the strongest," she whispered. The words sounded like bitter fruit in her mouth.

He tasted those words thoughtfully. They tasted good to him.

"Yes. For the strongest. For me."

She took a deep shuddering breath, and then another. She seemed to calm down. "God, Riddick, do you practice this stuff? I'd forgotten just how terrifying you could be."

Despite himself, he threw back his head and laughed. _Kid's got spunk._ At least when she thought she was safe in his arms. He laughed again, thinking of the bed he had made, thinking of her. She started to laugh too, sounding slightly hysterical. He let her go, stepped back, and picked up her small hand. She squeezed it hard, pathetically grateful for his touch.

"Just teasing," he said, softly.

"Liar," she whispered back. But she was smiling. He pulled her back down into the darkness.


	6. Release Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When they were almost to his cave, Riddick asked abruptly, "Is there a guy?"

When they were almost to his cave, Riddick asked abruptly, "Is there a guy?"

"Not right now." Her voice was cautious.

"Was there?"

"Riddick, you've spoiled me for other men."

He snorted. Let go of her hand, rolled the rock from the mouth of the cave he had appropriated. Led her in. Rolled the rock back, sealing them in together.

"Riddick," she asked, her voice shy, "is there any light? I . . . I'm not used to this much dark any more."

He chuckled, low. Lit a dim torch he'd appropriated from some corpse or another. She gasped, turned slowly around.

They were in an enormous cave. It was utterly beautiful; full of weird and wonderful formations. Veins of precious metals and iridescent extrusions riddled the walls. All scattered with crystals that glittered and glinted, dizzyingly. It was carpeted with soft white sand, itself rich in light scattering grains. A small hot spring welled up from a corner, liquid light that snaked its way through enclosure. A previous occupant, as far as he could tell, had dug a pool deep enough to stand in, lined with a carefully fitted spiral of smooth rocks. The waters drained slowly out the other side.

He'd been very pleased to find this place. Hadn't even had to kill for it; had just followed the ancient musk of decaying flesh and sulfur. Filled it with what he had scavenged from men he had killed.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, turning slowly. "It's like you're a dragon, hording treasure." She thought about what had just said. Blushed.

He smiled at her, feeling a sensation he didn't recognize. A little like he'd felt towards a Labrador puppy he'd known once. Cherishing? Maybe. Liked playing with that puppy; really liked it when it had crawled in his lap and licked his face. Felt a little like that. He snorted at himself. Took her hand again, led her around shallow rock formations to the bed he'd made soft, thinking about her. Sat her down. "You hungry?"

"God yeah. Haven't eaten since breakfast. Which was probably months ago." His lips twitched as he pulled some of the better looking rations he'd taken from dead men's hoards, and some water. Sat next to her on the bed. Shared.

"So," he said, quietly. "Life on New Mecca. Tell me about it."

"Good. I love New Mecca. Even joined a church."

"Abu's?"

"No." She flushed, as if the name itself was painful. He filed that away for later. "I joined the Hermetic Unitarians. Kinda pagan atheists. Semper Magnanimous. Always Generous."

"Hm."

"Hm," she echoed.

"Tell me whatcha been doin' with yourself."

Her voice was soft. "At first . . . at first I was sure you'd come back for me. So I tried to be ready. Learned to fight, learned to pilot, ship repair, survival stuff – anything. Even did a year at a military academy. I was pretty good." She smiled, ruefully.

"Military?" He was surprised.

"Yeah. But it didn't take. I went home for the summer, and got taken aside by my civil engineering professor. She was in my church. Real Earth mother type. Terraformer. Anyway, she told me I was going to be offered commando training. Huge honor." She looked at him, oddly. "I can't tell you how many times I wanted to tell you all this."

He stroked her hair like he once petted that puppy, letting his hand rest on her neck. She closed her eyes. He contemplated pulling her onto his lap. He contemplated pulling her clothes off.

 _Not just yet._ "Anyway, she told me if I accepted, they'd turn me into a killer. She said – she said I'd be a good one. But it was a life of 'splendid isolation,' not semper magnanimous. I wouldn't ever be able to care for anyone because I would put them in danger, I could never take credit for what I did, I would always walking the morally ambiguous lines at the edges."

Jack's voice lowered, like she was trying to tell him something important. "She didn't think that was my destiny. She thought I should leave the military, become a terraformer, like her.

 _Now?_ A part of him asked. He started kneading her small neck with his hand, gently, insinuatingly. She smiled, leaned over, giving him better access. But she kept talking. "At first, I was . . . overjoyed. I wanted to be like you so fucking much. And I was pissed at her for thinking otherwise.

"But as I got thinking about it . . . I realized she was right. I don't want to be a commando. I don't want to be alone. I want to help people. I want . . . I want to be part of something good, not lurking in the shadows."

She went quiet again. Looked away from their little pool of light.

"And at some point, I realized you really weren't coming back."

The cave was silent but for the slow trickle of water over rock and sand. He let his hand slide down her spine, come to rest low on her back.

"So I switched. Quit the academy, went back to civilian life. She helped me get into a good school. Got my undergrad a few years back. Doing graduate school in a type of apprenticeship program. Part of a team. We were supposed to ship out in three months. Two year mission to start terraforming a new world. I was supposed to be shadowing the sociology/economy person. 'Building the specs for a society that would be sustainable given the material limitations of the planet we were sculpting.' They are probably gone already. Damn." Her voice cracked. She stopped talking, her eyes filling with tears.

He watched her for a moment. "I almost came back for you."

Her voice caught. "When?"

"Four days after I left . . ."

"Huh. I always figured it would be when I turned 18 or something." She smiled as if it was some of joke.

He snorted. "Four days after I left, I went into cryo to stop myself from coming back for you. About week ago I woke up here."

"Oh." She went very quiet. "So for you, it's just been . . . days?"

He grunted noncommittally.

"Oh." She went quiet again. "So as far as you're concerned, I'm still a kid." Her voice was thoughtful.

He shrugged. Smiled. "I'll adjust. I'm . . . flexible." He nuzzled her, gently, trying to prove his point.

She poked him. "Yeah. You're a contortionist."

He snorted. Caught her hand. Held it still. She turned and gave him an achingly intimate look, leaned so close he could taste her breath. "Look. I don't want to be here, but I'm really happy to see you, Riddick. I love you. You saved my life over and over. I never forgot that."

He started to caress her hand, lovingly, gently, insinuatingly. "Left you to die, too."

"Yeah. You're a little like a moon in a highly elliptical and irregular orbit. A problem for us terraformers. You mess up the waves."

He laughed, pulled back a little bit. "Are you ready to tell me what's really going on, kid?"

She flushed scarlet, looked down. "They want you. New Mecca. I don't know much. I know they want you to kill someone. If you do, they'll make you rich, and wipe your record. And . . ." she flushed, broke off.

"And what?"

"They said . . . you get me."

 _So you do get that._ "Hm." He leaned intrusively close again, speculatively. _Oh, this is going to be fun._ Still, there were too many questions lingering to rush in to anything that could leave him . . . vulnerable. He continued, whispering roughly into her ear, "what's the other thing?"

She flushed. "The other thing you get?"

"No. The other thing you aren't telling me."

"There are lots of things I'm not telling you. It's been eight years, Riddick. You want to know what I had for dinner every night?"

"The thing you aren't telling me about Abu."

He could smell her adrenaline spike at the name, the sudden heat on her face. "Nothing."

"I know when you're lying, kid."

She stayed quiet. After a long time, he said, warningly, "Jack . . ."

"He's a good man. Got a wife, a couple of kids. We've . . . drifted apart over the years. But he always sends a birthday present."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How come his name makes you cringe?"

She stayed quiet. _Damn. When she was a kid, I could get her to talk just by staying quiet. Guess she's learned that one._ He stood up, walked out of their little island of light.

"Are you leaving me again?" Her voice cracked.

 _Not for long, baby. Just long enough to figure out what you're not telling me._ He smiled at her, grimly. "I'll be back. There's a recycler if you gotta piss. And you might want to conserve that light."

She gave him a stricken look. He rolled the stone away, stepped through the mouth of the cave, rolled it back. Not quite all the slightly abashed, he stood just outside the cave, listening.

 **0o0**

After what seemed like a very long time, he could hear her murmuring. Talking to someone? Had he missed a communicator? He squinted with baleful suspicion through a chink in the rocks.

"Get a hold of yourself, Jack. Why would he leave me locked in a cave?"

"Well, why did he do it last time?" She stepped around the rock formation that concealed the bed, taking the light with her. He watched, carefully.

"Merciful Lady, what am I going to do?" She wrapped her free arm around herself as if she was cold.

"We grope together and avoid speech . . ." now she was shaking, shuddering, her voice choked, seeming to hold on to her own words as if they were all she had.

"Eyes I dare not meet in dreams, in death's dream kingdom," she whispered. "Those do not appear . . ."

She walked to the stream, knelt beside it. A smell of salt. She was crying, silently. "No light, just darkness visible . . ."

She turned off the light and started to sob. _Time to go._

 **0o0**

The port was very easy to find. Realized he'd avoiding finding it. Avoided finding how easily he could slip this prison.

And there was his ship. His "solar chariot" as Jack had called it. He snorted. It would be so easy to slip into that ship, slip away . . . Leaving Jack to die, locked behind a rock she could not hope to move. Leaving her, again.

He watched the ship for a long time, considering. Became aware of someone approaching. He moved into the shadows. Two soldiers, deeply engaged in conversation, emerged from a side tunnel.

"What's gotten into you, Lukey-boy?"

"Don't feel right about this."

"Get over it. Think of the mission."

Luke was the cadet who had offered to stay with Jack. Little boy, full of woe. Riddick eyed him, thoughtfully. A weak spot. Luke kept talking. "I read her file. She's a good person. Takes refugee kids to work in wildlife reserves. Works on the climate control network. She would be on a terraforming mission two months ago, if we hadn't grabbed her. That's the Lady's work. Building new worlds."

The other man smiled indulgently. "Sounds like you're smitten. Don't forget she helped kill that guy Cyrus. She's not so innocent."

Luke snorted, all gallant protectiveness. "Like hell she did. She wasn't even on the planet. Absolutely, transparently, made up." His voice was dripping with disgust. He picked up a rock, threw it hard. It skipped and bounced on the irregular floor. "I signed up to serve civilization, not to stake little girls out for monsters."

The other man laughed. "Oh, come on. Minister al-Walid said he wouldn't hurt her."

Riddick almost stopped breathing. _Somebody does know me._ Luke's next words echoed his own thoughts. "Yeah. What sort of holy man turns his own foster daughter over to monsters?"

The other man cuffed him, gently. "One who's trying to save his planet, you git. Don't forget, if they come, she'll die too. She might even be safer with him."

"Right." Luke's floor related aggression escalated. He picked up a rock, threw it after the first, harder. It bounced once, got trapped against a bigger rock. "I read his file, you know. He's the type of person who kills to relax."

The other man was soothing. "He hasn't killed anyone that we know of since Cyrus. That was eight years ago. Maybe she changed him."

Luke wasn't having any of it. "The love of a good woman? Not bloody likely. And he's been stuck here in cryo for at least a year. Not even he could kill in his sleep." Luke started kicking rocks now. They skidded down the corridor. "And what kind of soldiers stick torture devices in the backs of little girls' necks?" He started painting something – tracking nanites?- on the hull of Borson's ship. Aggressively.

The other man was doing the same thing to the hull, but much more gently. "If things go right, she'll never even know what it means. So what's your angle, anyway? Ever since this mission started, you've been all weird. You know her or something?"

Luke sighed stepped away from the ship, grabbed some other equipment from his bag. "Sort of."

"Does the captain know?" The other man sounded shocked. There was a long silence. Finally, Luke started talking again.

"I don't know. I don't _know_ her. But . . . when I was in the scouts, I did a ride along with a navy ship. They got an emergency call, and didn't have time to drop me off. Low risk mission, so they took me along."

He stopped working, turned to look at his companion. "It was her. I didn't figure that out until I read her file. She'd been kidnapped by some crazy bounty hunters or something. First time I saw her, she was wearing nothing but the first officer's jacket . . ." Luke's voice choked off. "She was so scared. But so brave . . ." He looked away, seemed to look right at Riddick. The eyes slipped past him, unseeing.

"That was almost eight years ago. She's why I joined. To serve and protect. Fuckin' irony, now I'm handing that same girl over to a monster. It's a kidnapping mission." He kicked another rock, hard.

"Rendition."

"What?"

"It's a rendition mission, not a kidnapping."

"What the fuck ever, man."

"Look, I gotta go back. We didn't bring the right equipment to remote control this thing. Why don't you wait here, guard the ship, get hold of yourself? Captain won't like to see you so . . . emotionally involved in this."

"Whatever."

"Luke, look, things are never simple. If things had gone right, they'd be sleeping next to each other in cryo, and we'd be leaving it all to the Elementals to figure out. That stupid doctor woke him up too early. I'm sorry the captain decided to kick her loose down there, but you're making yourself crazy, imagining bad things. She's a survivor. She'll be fine." The unnamed man cuffed Luke again, affectionately, and walked back down the tunnel.

Riddick waited until he was sure he was gone. Then he came up behind Luke, pulled his gun from its holster, twisted his wrists behind his back, shoved him hard again the ship.

"What the fuck?" the man gasped.

Riddick leaned close, so the man could feel his breath on his throat. He whispered low into the man's ear, "You were nice to my girl. I like that. So you get a chance to walk away from this. Understand?"

The man gasped again, with seeming comprehension, nodded vigorously.

"Tell me what she's doing here."

"We've been sent to find a man, offer him a job. She . . . she knew him. You. You Riddick?"

Riddick ignored the question. "Now, tell me what the Imam Abu al-Walid had to do with any of this."

Luke took a deep steadying breath. " It was _Minister_ al-Walid's idea. Thought her here, in chains, afraid – he thought it would get his - your attention."

Luke gasped in pain. Riddick's grip had tightened. "I'm not going to fight you, man. I promise. We're on the same side."

Riddick thought about it. Loosened his grip. Let the man turn around. Kept him pressed against the hull, intimately.

The soldier met Riddick's eyes, unafraid. "You were listening, weren't you?"

Riddick nodded, slowly.

"So you know I don't like this. Promise me you won't hurt the girl or my team, and I'll answer your questions."

Riddick pitched his breath low. "Better worry if I'm gonna hurt you, soldier boy. What the fuck is going on?" He was surprised at the heat in his own voice.

The soldier looked down. "There is a rumor –" the man broke off, flushed. "We've got a job for you. Do it, you get to be a hero. A rich hero."

"And the girl?"

Luke flushed. "Yeah. You get her."

"So the Helion system gives away its girls?"

The flush reddened. "Not typically," he muttered.

"Does Jack know that _Minister_ Abu set her up?"

The man blinked at him. "I don't know. Maybe."

"How?" Riddick pressed closer. Luke stared straight into his ungoggled eyes, unafraid.

"He met us at the space port. She had so much hope in eyes when she saw him . . . Until he talked to her . . . " the soldier trailed off.

"Did you hear what they said?"

"I think he said 'Tell Mr. Riddick I'm sorry.'"

Riddick stilled the urge to smash the man's head against the hull. He could be useful. Poor Jack. Trying to protect the man who had betrayed them both. Stupid Jack. Have to work on her about that. "So . . . soldier boy. What do you fuckers want me to do?"

"Kill a Necromonger." The word was unfamiliar, but it sent a shiver down deep in Riddick's gut anyway. "I don't know much more. He's a general or something of some army. It almost invaded three years ago, and it's coming back. They think you are the right man for the job. We were supposed to take you to the people who would give you the pitch."

Riddick nodded again, thoughtfully. "Suppose I kill this guy for you, you folks gonna play straight with me?"

"We're the good guys." Riddick snorted. The man looked down, gathered courage. "You called her your girl. Was Minister al-Walid right? Do you care about her?"

Riddick didn't answer. The boy continued. "If you do, don't let my team know."

"Why?"

"They'll use that. They'll . . . hurt her to get you to do what they want. We . . . we put something in her so we can hurt her." The man looked physically pained.

"Why you volunteerin' information, solider boy?" Riddick kept his voice gentle.

"I didn't sign up to hurt little girls." The man sounded defiant. Riddick eyed him thoughtfully. Finally gave him an approving nod, turned around, and walked back into the darkness. Wanting to get back to Jack.

Feeling oddly sentimental, he made one stop first, to pick up something nice for them.


	7. Release Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, he was in front of the threshold. He rolled back the stone, and paused. It was dark. He had not expected that. His vision shifted and he was seeing heat signatures. Nothing that mapped to human. Just faint and fading impressions of air currents sliding along the cold rocks.

At long last, he was in front of the threshold. He rolled back the stone, and paused. It was dark. He had not expected that. His vision shifted and he was seeing heat signatures. Nothing that mapped to human. Just faint and fading impressions of air currents sliding along the cold rocks.

He inhaled, deeply, carefully, trying to separate smells. His own smell had already sunk into the sands. Her smell, and her tears, and her fear hung in the air. She'd cried while he was gone, and been afraid. But no other living thing had been there.

He tried to listen for her heart beat. Finally, faintly, it was there, near the pool where the hot spring flowed, masking her heat signature. The beat was very slow. Puzzling. He rolled the rock back into place, padded silently over the sands and water to stand over her. She was sitting in a meditation pose, her eyes closed, her breathing slow, wedged between rocks that absorbed her signal. The dark torch was sitting beside her. He crouched in front of her, and her eyes opened, finally calm, for the first time since he saw her held tightly by Luke in an upper cavern.

With his goggles off, he knew she could see his eyes, luminescent. He reached for her face, traced a thumb down the path her tears had taken, leaving tracks of salt that dimmed the heat of her face.

"Missed me?"

"More than you know."

"You were crying."

"Riddick, I have not been alone for nine years. I live with friends, on a world with 19 billion other souls, in a solar system of sixteen inhabited worlds and over one hundred billion sapient beings. We carved a utopia out of the darkness. A world of light and laughter and incalculable wealth. I was a member of a civilization. Because of you. You gave me a happily ever after."

Her voice trailed off.

"And now I've been cast back into that outer darkness." She was still gazing into his eyes, calm, sad, but unafraid.

"For me."

"For you." She smiled wryly, punched him lightly on the arm.

He grunted, not entirely sure how to take this.

"I'm happy to see you and I'll . . . I'm adjustable too. But don't expect me not to grieve for what I just lost."

He reached past her, turned on the torch, kept the setting dim. "I talked to your soldier boy."

"My what?"

"The one who kept his hands on you."

"Oh, the nice one."

"He told me . . . things."

"Did he survive the experience?" Her voice was still calm, but there was an arch note in it.

"Yeah. I liked him. Come on."

She stood up, slowly. For an instant, she seemed to be more than herself, as if something was standing up through her, above her, reaching out of the cave . . . but he blinked, and what ever it was faded away. He was distracted by the fact she'd taken off her shoes. The sight of her bare feet made him smile. _Gonna be much easier to get her clothes off now._

He led her back to the bed. Sat her down and pulled out a flask. He'd traded a handful of opals to Tiresias for it. Poured two generous slugs into two stone cups he'd found in the cave. Sat down beside her and handed one to her.

"To us." He toasted her, ironically. Took a big drink. She smiled, toasted him back.

"To us," she echoed. Took a sip. Made a face. "Burns."

"Underworld's finest." She smiled.

He nuzzled her neck. Her breath caught, her air of calm slipping slightly. "You are adjusting to me being grown up, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Drink up."

"Why?"

"Indulge me. It'll make the next part easier."

She shivered. "Next part?"

"Have another drink, kid." She did. Didn't make a face this time.

He made a show of stretching out his feet, taking off his shoes before he started again. "I talked to your soldier boy."

"You said."

She was cautious. He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close. She shivered again, but didn't resist. "He said the Helion Navy saved you from bounty hunters."

Sharp intake of breath. She took another drink without prompting. "Any more of this?" His lips twitched. Let her go, filled her cup. She took another drink. "Yeah, they did."

"You gonna tell me about it?"

"Wasn't planning to."

"Why?"

"You're really focused on bad stuff, you know?"

"Jack . . ."

"What?"

"Please?"

She gave him a look that seemed to cut right through him. She laughed. "Damn. You're good."

"Huh?"

"At getting me to do what you want."

 _Only just begun, baby._ "Practice." He pulled her closer, affectionately.

She relaxed and laughed again. Looked down. Took another drink. "Okay. Not much to tell, I guess. About six months after you left, I got grabbed by mercs. They made me an offer. Help catch you willingly, or get staked out as bait. I told them to fuck themselves. The Helion Navy showed up. I went home."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Before the Navy showed up. Soldier boy said you were terrified. And naked." _Naked. Why isn't she naked?_

 _Later,_ he told himself sternly. _Plenty of time. Bad conversation to start unwrapping her._

"Ah." She looked down, was quiet for a long time. "Well, they told me that they were going to give me a free taste of what could happen, if I didn't help out. Told me all about a girl who was tortured to death, wired up to some sort of mental recording device." She stared out into the darkness.

"So they stuck a needle in my brain pan. I got to experience everything she experienced. Got to feel her die. It took days." Her look was distant, detached. "Whoever did it wired themselves too. They let me experience everything they experienced. How much they liked it." Her detachment cracked slightly. She wouldn't look at him. Took a deep, steadying breath.

"They told me I had a choice. Be the hammer or be the nail. Then they left me in a room just like the one she died in, all alone, with nothing.

"They never came back. Next people through the door were the Helion Navy. Saved by the soldiers of the sun."

"Huh?"

"Helios means sun." She shot him a look. "Yeah, it's a little obvious. Sorta perverse, but it changed my life, too. I don't want to be any of those people, locked in that world of predator and prey. I wanted to be part of a better world. Thanks to you, I had eight years in a better world. I got to have a happily ever after the dark night." She took another drink, leaned against him, bonelessly. The alcohol was hitting her hard, loosening her tongue, making her maudlin, earnest.

But Riddick settled back, mind swirling darkly. Seemingly unaware, she took another drink. Then another. Finally, she said, her voice slightly husky, "I never stopped missing you, you know. You've always been under my skin." She took another drink, her tongue loosened just like he'd wanted. "About three years ago, I had a dream. A nightmare. A lot of my nightmares are about being trapped in caves." Her eyes flickered to the door again, ruefully. "You came. You broke me out. But right before we stepped into the light, right before we would have escaped, you got killed. And I couldn't even get to your body." She looked down. "I woke up sobbing. I'm glad – I'm really glad it was just a dream." Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek like she had done when she was a little girl, two weeks, eight years ago. He closed his eyes.

Finally, he asked, softly "What happened to them?"

"Who?"

"Those guys who took you. They around?"

She shrugged, painfully. "Suppose so. We rehabilitate people in Helios. We don't just throw them away because they do something wrong. I'm sure paid their debt to society."

He gave her a dark look.

She prattled on. "Look, it's over. I'm over it. Took a lot of therapy, but all life is suffering, you know? I learned some things."

He said continued to say nothing, even more darkly. The cave became very quiet.

"What are you thinking?" she asked after a long time, her voice small.

He chewed over his words "You're right about one thing. I took you to a do-gooder utopia because I wanted you to live happily ever after. I figured it'd make you soft. I didn't figure it'd make you stupid."

"What?" She sounded more heartbroken than angry. That pissed him off.

"You 'rehabilitate' people. Is this thing in your neck rehabilitative? What's so wrong with you that you need this thing?"

"Riddick, please-"

He cut her off, ruthlessly. "Was that soldier rehabilitatin' you when he cut you? When they left you here? First time I saw Crustus, he was raping a corpse. If I hadn't been there, that would have been you some day. I don't think leaving you with him was rehabilitative. I think that's bullshit.

"I think these men took you. To get to me. I don't give a crap whether they're rehabilitated. I don't give a crap whether you've forgiven them. I'm going to find them. Then I'm going to kill them."

She made a small, mournful noise.

He sighed. Relented. Wrapped an affectionate arm around her. "I'm sorry kid. I won't make you watch."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Her voice was ironic. "You're sweet."

He snorted. "Spit it out, kid. What aren't you saying."

Her voice was cautious, earnest. "It's different. Me being here - isn't about me. It's about you. Helios is all about the light. Maybe they really need their own thing of darkness. Maybe they really need you. Doing this to me – it's against the rules. But just because someone decided they should break the rules doesn't mean there aren't rules. It's just that sometimes, the rules don't work."

"Kid, you're aren't making any sense. These people left you here. You sayin' that's okay? You sayin' you'da volunteered?"

Again, she shrugged painfully, stared into the darkness. "I don't know. No one asked me. Look. I love my home. The one you gave me. I think – I think they thought I was the only one that would get your attention. But I suspect – I suspect they figured you'd just kill me if you thought I was luring you into something. But if you thought I was just an innocent victim . . . " She shivered. "And I don't think they were going to let me say no. Why ask if you aren't going to let me say no?"

 _Very good point._ "Got my attention all right. So who do you think knows me so well?"

She looked down.

"What did Abu tell you at the space port?"

She shook her head and made a soft, mournful noise.

"Tell me."

"You know already, don't you? He said-" she stopped as two tears rolled down her face. "He said to tell you he was sorry."

 _Poor kid._ He kissed her cheeks, gently kissing the tears off. She burrowed into his arms, crying. He stroked her hair for a long time until she stopped. Patiently, even though it was all he could do not to start cutting her clothes off of her.

At last she pulled away. "Riddick, Abu told me you'd kill him if anything happened to me. Does this qualify as something happening to me?"

"Yeah. It sure does." He sniffed her neck, losing himself in her blood, in the faint, fading scent of gardenias. "Let's get those clothes off."

0O0 


	8. Release Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She jerked slightly, gave him a wide eyed look. "Riddick, I don't-"

She jerked slightly, gave him a wide eyed look. "Riddick, I don't-"

He stopped her with two fingers on her lips. "Shhh, baby. Don't fight me. I've been waiting all day to check out what Helios is offering me to kill that guy. Just relax and enjoy."

Something awful passed over her face. He almost felt bad. But he was already unbuttoning her insignia-less uniform. It was like unwrapping a present.

He took his time. Her breathing was increasingly ragged. When he finished, he lowered her down onto the bed. She tried to cover herself with her hands, automatically. He shook his head. First picked up her right hand from her breasts, kissed it, and put it above her head. Kissed his way down her left side, between the ribs. _Thrust here to puncture the lungs. Thrust here to puncture the heart._ He kissed her soft belly. _Thrust here, and they die slow._ He lifted his head and smiled at her, feeling incredibly tender. _Never that. I like her too much to let her die that way._ Continued down to the small hand between her thighs. Kissed it, placed it across the first, displaying her body completely. She laid there, wide eyed, breathing hard.

"You've done this before?" His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.

Her voice was even rougher. "Yeah. I have."

 _My turn now._ He stripped quickly. Her breath caught as her eyes skated down his body like he hoped they would. _She always wanted to fuck me. She always did. I was such a fucking good boy, two weeks ago, eight years ago, before she grew up . . ._

He lowered himself down onto the bed, nudged her legs apart, knelt between them. He paused, staring down at her, enchanted by this grown up Jack. Enjoying her fear more than he probably should.

Fear he liked. But not her wide eyed misery. He whispered softly, "It's going to be okay, Jacky. Gonna take care of you."

She shook her head, whispered back, brokenly. "Thank you. But Riddick, Abu did his best by me. Don't make me mourn his death too."

He grunted, stung that she was thinking of Abu, not of him. That she was afraid of what he was going to do to Abu, not to her. But he leaned down at last, kissed her neck, delicately, letting his teeth graze her jugular. _Bite hard enough, they die fast._ She gasped, softly. "He gave you to bad men, Jack."

She shook her head, violently this time. "No, he didn't. They are just trying to save their world."

"To a bad man, then." He settled back on his haunches, letting his hands stroke up and down her soft body. She still didn't struggle, but her eyes were wide and she made no effort to move her wrists away from where he'd put them.

 _What the fuck does she care what I do to Abu? His damn fault she's here. She should be glad I'm going to take care of it._

 _Take care. Abu took care of her._

 _She doesn't want to fuck the man who's going to kill her foster father._

 _Cute kid._

He closed his eyes.

 _She's miserable about this. Do I care?_

 _Maybe just this once._

"Jack," he said, huskily. "If it's what you want . . . I won't hurt Abu. Even though you're making a liar of me."

Something like joy flooded her face. To his irritation, it pleased him. "Thank you," she whispered. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him gently.

He played with gentle, for now. He couldn't remember if he'd ever had sex gently, rather than something animalistic in a back alley with someone he didn't give a fuck about.

She was sweet and yielding, and if she seemed a little shy and hesitant, it had been a difficult day. He was prepared to humor her, this time. And she was intoxicating.

 **0o0o0o0**

He woke hours later, here in the eternal night. He'd been dreaming of a mission he'd been on, once, long ago, before his eyes had changed.

The planet Danaan. Couldn't remember if it was part of the old empire or not, now. They had landed in a lush valley late one afternoon, trekked overland to a small village inside a defense screen designed to exclude any weapon more high tech than a hunting knife. He hadn't minded the walk. It had been spring, and everything had been lush and green and utterly beautiful. He and the other man had walked in silence through a place so alive and so sweet that it was like the world was beginning again, all new again.

It was a kill mission. His job was an older woman, living alone. Hand over the mouth, elbow around the neck, crack. He could still feel the last exhalation of breath against his fingers; feel her last heart beat against the skin of his elbow. She never saw him.

He caught her lifeless body gently. He made sure it never hit the ground. He had carried her – it - to bed, arranging the body carefully, almost reverently, so when someone finally came to look, they'd just think she had overslept. It might have been the last time he was gentle with anyone. Anyone but Jack.

He couldn't remember the woman's name. He had never thought to ask why she had to die, and now, in the middle of the night, he regretted not finding out. She'd probably been some sort of do gooder, like Jack might be in thirty years. If someone like him didn't kill her first.

Feeling sentimental, he reached for Jack. She wasn't there. Lifted his head. Couldn't see her.

 _Not acceptable._ He pulled himself out of bed, dressed grimly, went hunting. He found her on the other side of the pool, where she had been before. She had knotted a blanket around herself like a sari and was kneeling, staring into the depths. Which was odd because in the darkness, she could not see anything.

Her face was wet. Tears. She'd been crying, again, and she'd thought it through. She went to where the soft gurgle of the water might hide the sound; where the sulfur might hide the scent. She knew him. She didn't want him to know she was crying.

 _What the fuck's goin' on with her? Why she still all weepy?_

 _What, you thought you'd fuck her, and that would make everything okay?_ _She really doesn't want to be here. She's miserable, terrified, alone in the dark with monsters. With you. With a killer. With a rapist._

 _Did I just rape her?_ He shoved the thought away. Ridiculous anyway. She'd hardly resisted at all.

He crouched beside her kneeling form. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice soft.

She jerked, and for a disorienting moment, she seemed to be overwhelmed by something large and dark, like the shadow that had hung on her when he had come back from talking to her solider-boy had returned. Once again, it expanded, thinned, and was gone . . .

Then it was just a girl, blinking at him, owlishly. She focused on his eyes. Her voice was oddly formal, stilted. "I'm sorry. I was trying not to wake you."

"Don't worry about it. Whatcha doin'?"

"Praying."

He snorted, his irritation growing. _You were crying, not praying. Lying to me, little girl?_

At her sad and guileless look, he relented. _Maybe not lying. Maybe people cry while they pray. How would I know?_

Then a dark thought bit him. _She prayin' to be saved? Saved from me?_

 _Fuck that._ _I'm keeping her._ "Do you think the gods are gonna to help you? Those fuckers don't care." He didn't try to keep the heat from his voice.

"The gods are just metaphors, Riddick. Just another path to understanding. And anyway, sometimes when I pray, you show up." She smiled, ruefully. "Maybe there's a message there."

His irritation dwindled away. _Poor stupid kid. She really does need someone to take care of her._

"I missed you," he said, softly, stroking her face.

"Thanks. That means a lot."

 _Irony?_ He let his hand slip to the back of her neck. Cupped it, intimately, thoughtfully. She stiffened.

"That thing they put in you. You don't like it."

"Yeah." Her voice cracked. "I hate it. It's like having a spider just waiting to bite, and I can't reach it but everyone else can see it. Marking me." She looked down, and two more perfect tears fell.

"Not all bad. Marks you as mine. Don't you want to be mine?" He tried to make his voice playful, teasing.

Her body jerked. "Once upon a time. But not like this." She looked down again. Finally, looked up, searching out his eyes. "And I don't think you really want me."

"No?"

"You're amused that I've been dropped in your lap again. You're taking ad-" Abruptly, she changed what she was going to say. "I'm. . . grateful you say you're going to take care of me."

 _Lap. Good idea._ He sat cross legged beside her. She followed the sound with her head. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her off her knees and onto his lap. "But . . . " he murmured, softly, letting his voice fall into the register of the gurgling waters.

"But if you had wanted me, you would have kept me."

He nuzzled her. Said nothing. After a long time, she continued softly, "But I got over you. I built a good life. I don't want to be property."

He sighed. "You could do worse than be mine." She stiffened again. "Shhhh, baby. I'm just teasing. We gotta make the best of it, don't we?"

She relaxed, rested her head against him, almost childishly. He stroked her hair, fingers drawn inexorably back to her neck, trying to feel the chip buried deep within. She whimpered, then buried her face into his neck, as if trying to muffle herself. He went back to stroking her hair.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I've got you. I've got you. You're with me. You're with me."

She was crying, silently. After a long time, she took a deep shuddering breath, pulled back a little bit. "I hate it. I hate that any asshole can just point something at me, and I'm on the ground."

"Once."

"What?"

"Once. And then he's dead. One less asshole. You're a do-gooder, aren't you? Call it asshole reduction."

She stared for a moment, then started to laugh. "I'm not sure whether that's comforting or really, really, disturbing."

"Just making the best of it." He looped an arm under her knees and stood, lifting her up into the air. "You're the best fucking thing I ever did, you know." He was surprised at how rough this voice was.

She relaxed into him as he carried her through the darkness. "Are we making the best of it now?" she asked, softly.

 _Well, I am,_ he thought. He set her down at the edge of the bed. She stood, disoriented in the black. He unknotted the blanket from around her, let it drop to the ground. Then he let his eyes skate over her body, the curve of her breasts, the hair falling around her shoulders, the roundness of her hips, before pulling her down next to him on the bed. He intended just to wrap himself around her and take them both back to sleep, but the temptation of her soft body was just too much. He started kissing the back of her neck, caressing her breasts, gently. When she did not respond, his hands and lips grew more insistent. He was oddly excited by her passivity, so unlike his experience with anyone else. Finally, she rolled onto her back, wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He needed no more invitation. He was on top of her, thrusting into her hard, and if she groaned as if she was in pain, he barely heard her.


	9. Release Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many more hours into the eternal night he woke refreshed. He untangled himself carefully from the sleeping girl. She was curled on her side, looking very childish, very vulnerable.

Many more hours into the eternal night he woke refreshed. He untangled himself carefully from the sleeping girl. She was curled on her side, looking very childish, very vulnerable.

He had not slept well after he returned to bed. Attacked by dreams. No, not dreams; always from the same dream. Always back on Danaan, back in the nameless woman's house. Always breaking the woman's neck, always catching her falling body, always carrying it into the bedroom. But every time he stepped over the threshold, the body was someone else. Sometimes she was that pilot who tried to save him. More often than he liked, she was Jack. It was almost every person he had ever killed; every person he had ever fucked; maybe every person who had ever met his eyes. He was caught in an endless spiral, carrying a river of people over the threshold of death.

The last time, one of the seemingly dead bodies wrenched herself out of his arms. "You pompous psycho," she spat. Or maybe "You psycho pompous." He was so surprised he'd woken himself up. The words made no sense.

And Jack had kept waking him up by reaching for the back of her neck, whimpering. Finally, exhausted by dreams and by her constant movement, he had wrapped his hands around hers and held them pressed against her body. She'd struggled for an instant. Another time, he might have let her, but he was bone tired. He put some of his weight on her, and she'd stilled, either comforted or cowed. He didn't notice her, or his dreams, after that.

Awake now, he reached over her, turned on the torch. Aimed it at the roof of the cave, the light refracting against the absurd crystalline veins in the walls. He examined the girl in more or less normal light. He was getting better at seeing things like he used to, if he concentrated, and if the light was low. He pushed stray locks of hair off of her face, stroked her cheek. She didn't wake up.

 _Mine._

His fingers stilled. _Where the fuck did that come from?_ He didn't need a girl. He was going to enjoy having this one while it lasted, until he'd found some place safe to stash her. But he wasn't going to keep her. Just until he found someplace safe. . .

 _Someplace safe?_

 _She's a marked woman. Marked with my name. No place is safe. They'll use her to get to me. If not these guys, someone else._

 _My name . . ._

 _Why not keep her?_

 _She doesn't want me to keep her._ This child from a civilized world, down here in the dark with monsters, kept by a monster? He snorted.

 _But no place is safe. Keep her._. .

 _Or kill her._

He explored the taste of that. He let his fingers play down her throat, resting on the slow pulse of blood through her jugular. So fragile . . . he could make it so she never felt it, never woke up, never missed home again . . . he applied a tiny bit of pressure, felt her pulse in his own veins.

She opened her eyes. She rolled onto her back and smiled at him, without fear. "Lux Sit."

"Huh?" His hand stayed on her throat.

"Light is. Sorry. Something we say, when we make a new world. Or in the morning. Kinda like 'hello day.'"

His lips twitched, involuntarily. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Good morning, my thing of darkness." She still stayed flat, unresisting, but there was something thoughtful to her now. Her eyes were locked on his face.

"You seem chipper."

"Things look better in the morning. You're thinking about killing me." It wasn't a question.

"How did you know?" he asked, softly.

Aside from a slight acceleration of her pulse, she did not initially react to this confirmation. They looked at each other. After a moment she licked her lips. The muscle movement felt strange under his palm. Finally, she said, "You're a problem solver. Your problem right now is me. You always think about whether killing someone will solve your problems."

He grunted, impressed. "Got an opinion?"

"Everything dies, Riddick. I'd rather not today. Got a new world to explore. But I made peace with my . . . metaphors last night, and if you kill me today, that's one way to be free of this damn thing in my neck."

"You really did grow up."

"Yeah. I really did. Thanks to you. "

He laughed, let go of her throat, caressed her face with the back of his hand. "Not today," he whispered. Then he threw off the blankets and stood.

Her breath actually caught, with relief or something else. Whatever it was, her eyes now played over his naked body. He paused, letting her look. Enjoying her gaze. Enjoying where it paused. Enjoying the sudden smell of desire. Realizing, slightly surprised, that smell had been absent late last night.

 _She cries in your arms and you decide to fuck her? Sorta makes sense she wouldn't be into it._ He pushed the thought away.

Finally, she shook her head. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"For ogling." She bent to pick up her clothes, a little ruefully.

"Ogle me any time, babe." He let his eyes skate over her body, naked, _naked because you pulled her clothes off,_ enjoying the soft curve of her breasts, the gentle tangle of hair where her thighs came together. His eyes rested there. She saw what he was looking at and flushed, again. She started dressing, quickly.

"I'm going to need to wash my clothes at some point."

"Dunno. Wouldn't mind you naked all the time." She blushed, looked down. He reached for his own clothes, dressed slowly, knowing she was watching him.

He stepped past her, pulled out some rations. Divvied them up. Found a lantern, lit it. Made the room glitter and glint even more. She smiled at him, gratefully. "Sorry I kept waking you up. Bad dreams."

"'sokay. Whatcha dream about?"

"Spiders. Snakes. Things biting me on the back of the neck."

He grunted. Thought about telling her about his dream. Decided not to.

"What . . . what now?"

He chewed thoughtfully. "Dunno. Got supplies enough here for months. Maybe hole up here until your soldier boys get tired and go away." He watched her carefully.

"You think they will?"

"Won't hurt to find out."

She clearly didn't like this. "In the mean time just . . . sit here?"

"I'm sure we'll find some stuff to do." He let his voice drop suggestively. She flushed again.

"So you've decided you're not . . . going to take them up on their offer?"

"You want me to?" His voice went cold. His suspicion that she was in on it, what ever it was, stirred.

"They are good people, Riddick. If you could save them . . ." Her voice trailed off inanely.

"Hm." He eyed her thoughtfully. "I wanna see what you've got."

"Huh?"

"Your fighting skills."

She hesitated. "Yeah. Right. Now?"

"Yeah. Now."

"Okay." She stood up, hesitantly. "I've mostly kept up with Aikido." She eyed him warily.

He snorted. "Yeah. Your non lethal shit. Show me what you've got."

"Okay. Attack me."

"Huh?"

"Aikido is defensive, Riddick."

"Hm." He stood, suddenly. She backed up. He attacked, not quite lazily, and she was on her back pinned in an instant. "Defensive?" he purred, low

"Hopefully, I won't be fighting you, Riddick."

He stood up, stared down at her sprawled before him. Finally, he pulled her up again. "I'm going to start half speed." This time, she did much better, deflecting him towards a wall. When he rushed back, she used a fancier move that actually made him stumble. His lips twitched. The third time, he stepped it up subtly and had her on her back again.

"Mmm," he said. Bent his head forward, kissed her neck languidly. Was mildly surprised at the spark of panic that unleashed, given the way she had looked at him when she woke. He backed off. Stood up.

"Again." They sparred. If he kept it slow, she was okay. Finally, he called a halt. "Kid, you're too worried about hurting me. Don't. Let's do some straight karate katas, like we used to"

She nodded, breathless. He started guiding her back through some simple moves, simple moves that were the components of kill moves. Decided not to mention that part.

She was a delight. Controlled, disciplined, focused – for once in his life, he was the one who kept getting distracted, finding excuses to knock her to the ground, pin her, kiss her. After he didn't take it further than a kiss, she seemed to relax into it, maybe even enjoy it.

Then she missed a beat, and he threw her harder than he meant. She stumbled against a rock, cutting her calf in the process. The air was filled with the perfume of her blood. Fighting the temptation to taste, he backed off, found the first aid kit. As he cleaned the wound, resisting the urge to use his tongue, he said, "You're not squeamish. That's good."

"Blood's good. It binds us."

"Huh?"

"The blood is the life . . . first you eat me, then I eat you . . . 'Pass the cup that's ever filling with the blood of all that's born.' Any of this familiar?"

"Maybe that second one."

She paused, considered, then blushed scarlet. "God, how did we ever hook up?"

"I saved your life and you latched on to me, remember?"

"Right. When I was young and not good at risk calculation." He smiled. She seemed to be about to ask a question, restrained herself. Instead, she stretched her calf, gingerly, and stood. "I'm a mess," she said, ruefully. "I must stink."

"I like the way you smell." He stood, stripped off his own clothes, tossed them across the cave into the pool to rinse them. Enjoyed her wide eyes skating over his body. And then he really liked her smell, because it smelled of desire. Desire for him. He smiled at her.

Two steps, and he had her pinned again. She gulped, gazed up. "Man, you're fast."

"Yeah." He started kissing her.

Somewhat to his surprise, she kissed back, for the first time with some enthusiasm.

 _Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she likes it rough._

 _Rough, I can do._ With no semblance of gentleness he had her shirt off, hands rough on her breasts. He collapsed onto his knees, had her pants unbuttoned, yanked down to her bare feet. She gasped, stroked his head, stepped out of her pants. He pulled her down, knelt above her.

"God. No wonder it hurt," she blurted, staring. "You're enormous."

He just smiled, started kissing her. Then he flipped her over, pulled her up onto her knees and was inside of her within a breath. She gasped again, as if it really did hurt. He forced himself to slow down, started caressing down between her legs with one hand; gripping her tightly against him with the other.

It didn't take long before she was groaning, thrusting against him. Making him realize how she'd laid stiff, like a corpse, the last two times. His last conscious thought was that this was better.


	10. Release Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _That was good,_ he thought when he was capable of thought again. He slowly became aware of the girl underneath him, still on her hands and knees. Her muscles were trembling slightly, like she was having trouble supporting her own weight. That puzzled him until he realized it was his weight she was having trouble with. He eased off slightly, keeping her pinned. Whispered into her ear, "So you like it rough?"

_That was good,_ he thought when he was capable of thought again. He slowly became aware of the girl underneath him, still on her hands and knees. Her muscles were trembling slightly, like she was having trouble supporting her own weight. That puzzled him until he realized it was his weight she was having trouble with. He eased off slightly, keeping her pinned. Whispered into her ear, "So you like it rough?"

The back of her neck flushed. "No. I like my sex and my violence separate."

He nuzzled her, caressed her breasts gently. Her breath caught. "Sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"So why was this better? You came this time. You didn't before." She stiffened, confirming.

 _Damn. Hopin' to be wrong about that._ Something about this kid made him feel indulgent. Or something. He sure liked the adoring look she got on her face when he did something nice.

"Maybe I'm adjusting," she said, softly. He ran two soft fingers around a nipple, up the breastbone, to the throat. Caressed it, possessively. Enchanted by her rapid pulse under his hand.

 _Still, things to know._ "Why didn't you tell me it hurt?"

She tried impotently to move away. _Not goin' anywhere, kid._ "Really want to know?"

"Yeah."

She glanced back over her shoulder at him. "Look. I've always kinda wanted to do this. But it was all so . . . sudden." She finished lamely.

"Jack . . ."

"What?"

"I know when you're planning on lying to me. Especially," he dropped his voice to a breathy whisper, "especially when I'm still inside you."

She tensed. It felt good, even though he was almost flaccid. She tried to move again, and he still wouldn't let her. Finally, her voice almost childish, "It's just - if I told you it hurt and you didn't stop, it would have been kinda like rape."

 _Interesting._ He grunted. He finally pulled out of her. Felt strange. He stood, found some other clothes. She had slumped to the sands when he let her go, as if her legs really weren't working. She wasn't looking at him. _Damn, what's gotten into her now? I made sure she liked that._ Finally, she rolled over, watched him dress. There was a question in her face. Finally, exasperated, he locked eyes with her.

"What do you want, Jack?" His voice seemed to echo through the cavern, giving it a weight he hadn't intended.

She stood, started gathering her clothes. There was a strange sadness to her face, and her shoulders had slumped. Her obviously evasive answer was still oddly earnest. "I want to get this chip out of my neck. I want us to live happily ever after, doing good works."

He started to laugh. Once he started, he couldn't stop. She dressed fast, walked away. Her body was rigid, like it was when she was a child when he used to make fun of her. That bothered him slightly. He managed to gasp after her, "My own little holy woman. You're one fucking lucky girl."

She wouldn't look at him. "Huh?"

"Because you're mine and I'm going to take care of you."

Mysteriously, that seemed to make her furious. "So that's also your decision, is it?"

 _Also? What's that supposed to mean?_ He stopped laughing. Smiled, letting a calculated amount of malice leak to the surface. "I think it was Abu's."

Her mouth moved for a moment. She gave him a murderous look. "Right. You think I'm his to give?"

"Looks like," he smiled a smile that had made armed men cower. "You're here."

For a moment he thought she was going to hit him. Amusing. She took a deep breath, and the sense dissipated. Not nearly as much fun. He said, casually, "Hey, I've got some stuff to do. You be a good girl while I'm gone? No wandering off to play with the scary monsters?"

She seemed about to say something. He was expecting her to shoot back shit, like she would have two weeks – _eight years -_ ago. Instead, she simply nodded, her eyes downcast, looking heartbroken. Like she was a puppy he'd kicked who still wanted to curl up on his lap. Annoying.

He grunted. Left, rolling the rock back as firmly as possible behind him.

 _Maybe this isn't a good idea,_ he grumbled to himself as he stalked back up to the inhabited levels. Having Jack cryptically grousing at him was not going to get fun.

 _You told her you wouldn't kill her today._

 _Didn't say nuthin' about tomorrow._

He stopped himself. _You really are a piece of work. You spend a year bustin' your balls to take care of that kid. She is the first thing you think about every morning almost since you met her. Closest thing to family you've got. And you're thinkin' of killing her._

He took a deep, steadying breath. _She's right, you're a problem solver. And she's a problem. A weak spot._

 _She was a weak spot before. What's different now? That I'm fucking her?_

At that thought, his tension eased. _Right. Big advantage to having her._

 _You'd kill anyone else who did this to her._

 _Did what to her? Protected her from monsters?_

He forcibly derailed that train of thought. Focused on moving silently through the darkness.

 _And you'd kill anyone else you thought was thinking about killing her._

 _Fuck._

 _I really am a piece of work._

He stalked through now irritating darkness, thoughts swirling darkly.

 _If they want me to do it, it's probably hard._

Where did that come from? Do what?

 _Kill that guy._

 _Kill that guy. If they really do play straight with me . . ._

A strange sense of longing stirred. To have a life where he wasn't hunted. To have a life that involved a girl he liked who would be his. Who he could fuck any time he wanted.

 _I'm trying to talk myself into this._

 _Killin's what I'm good at._

He'd arrived at Crustus's cave. It had been pretty well picked over already, but he had an idea that there might be hidden treasures. He stood in the middle, listening, looking, smelling.

After a few minutes of tracking the air currents, he followed a scent, a female scent, to a small alcove.

There was only sand and rock, but the scent was strong. Something was wrong with the rocks. He put his hands on the limestone like wall behind the alcove, rapped softly, hearing the echoes, feeling the vibrations.

Didn't take long until he found a rock that felt different. Found the center of the anomaly, pushed. The rocks groaned, parted.

He stepped through into a tomb-like cave that the raiders had missed. Smelled of pain and death and the malicious joy that so often reeked from prison guards. _This is where they kept her._ He took a deep breath. _Not just her. Others before her._

 _Lotta death in this room._

 _Jack coulda been in this room._

His stomach twisted. The rocks started to slide back, as if to lock him in. He stepped back through, stared at the limestone wall. Found a pick axe. Smashed it into dust. Went in.

His target was a line of trunks, all padlocked. The first lock submitted easily to the pickaxe. Contained some women's clothing. Most of which he wouldn't bring back to her, but he found a few skirts and shirts that might be acceptable. He set them aside. Next trunk was full of toys. Manacles. Whips. Equipment whose use he could only darkly guess at. Gags . . .

He fingered one, thoughtfully, thinking of her screaming on the exam table. _If those assholes are smart, they've got it all set up already._ Added the softest of the gags to the pile of clothes. Found some rope. Tested it. Would take his weight easily. Added it to the pile. Opened the next trunk. Had to work to smash the lock off. Blinked.

Bones. They'd locked a girl in here, and she'd died, curled in fetal position.

Then he started to laugh. _Killin' those fuckers was really a good deed. And it felt good. Maybe there is a place for me in this do-gooder adventure after all._ He closed the trunk, smashed opened the next. There was a rucksack big enough for a body on top. He tossed that onto his pile. Some jewelry, that surprised him. _What the hell, Jack might like jewelry._ Added that. A few bottles of liquor. He smiled, added those. Rummaging around, he found some drugs. A small hand-held play back machine. A gun.

A big gun, the type they were absolutely not supposed to have, because of the risk of cave ins. They weren't even supposed to have laser cutting tools; fear they'd set off a chain reaction through the crystals. He tucked it into his waistband.

The drugs weren't recreational. Knock out drugs. Not really his style. Oh well, didn't weigh much. Could be useful. He packed everything into the rucksack that had once contained a girl. Headed out.

He wandered a long time without encountering anyone. The lower levels were often empty; most people seeming to believe that there were scary monsters down here. He'd never seen any evidence of one. Still, he'd half expected to find evidence of the soldiers. But there wasn't even a hint of it. Finally, he went back to his cave.

 **0o0o0o0**

It was dark and the scent of gardenias was completely gone. Jack had rinsed her clothes in the pond, and they were draped over rocks, drying. He was slightly surprised to find that his were as well.

There was a smell of sweat. She'd worked out. Angrily. _Angry at me? Why the fuck would she be angry with me? I've been a good guy._

 _Where the hell is she? She must have heard me moving the rock._

 _Why is it dark?_

He could just call her name, but something stopped him. Instead, he tried to sense her. Smell was no help; her scent was in the air almost uniformly. She'd bathed, and not sweated since. That bothered him slightly. He would have liked to do it with her. Well, he could just toss her into the water. That caused a pleasurable sensation, deep down.

He tried to listen for her heart beat. Nothing.

 _The water's louder._ She'd done something to the rocks, so instead of a soft mummer, the sound was rougher, more assertive, more covering. _On purpose?_ _She that smart?_

 _Yeah, I think she is. Gotta watch that._

 _Think this through. Couldn't get out. She has to be somewhere with lots of rock between her and the door._

 _Couldn't get out . . . could she?_ Something itched. Her scent wasn't uniform after all. He turned and looked at the rock blocking the entrance. Noticed that the sand had been smoothed around the threshold. Something made him examine the rock. Something made him smell the rock. Her scent had sunk into the stone.

 _She tried to move it._

 _Shit, where is she?_

Something like anxiety began to stir. He stalked her trail. Clearly, she had been walking the perimeter of the cave, touching things, her scent sinking into the rock in many places. She'd tried to move things.

He found her at last, sitting cross legged, leaning against the cave wall, among clear signs she'd been excavating. She'd found another sheet to knot around herself, one he hadn't really looked at before. He took a moment to enjoy the thin fabric draped over her breasts and hips, the absurd motif of apples and snakes curving just right. His anxiety faded. _My own little holy woman._

She wasn't moving. _Asleep?_ He touched her face. "Whatcha doin', kid?"

Her eyes opened, and for a moment, it was as if the woman he'd killed on Danaan was gazing back at him. Then she blinked, and it was just Jack's eyes looking out. "Same old, same old. Taking a break from ricocheting between blind panic and preternatural calm acceptance of my impending doom."

He snorted. "You sure got all educated up."

"Yeah. Had to do something with my time."

He crouched down, examined her work. She seemed to be excavating a prior stream bed through the cave wall, blocked by some sort of rockslide. Too small for him. Just about perfect for her.

"Tryin' to leave me, kid?"

She shook her head. "Just exploring my options."

He grunted, started moving the rocks back.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't want you playing with the scary monsters." _Don't make me hogtie you, holy girl. You won't enjoy it._

"So you can leave and I can't? You don't come back, I'm just supposed to starve to death, alone in the dark?"

 _Why are you so pissed off at me? I came back._ He took a gentle tack. "Kid, I was gone four hours. There's food for months here." He moved some larger rocks, rocks she'd have trouble moving, into the mouth of the tunnel. She was standing, fists clenched, an absurd pose against the graceful folds of her improvised sarong. Had a sudden urge to throw her down, screw her brains out. Started with a smile. "I brought you some things."

Her expression softened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Come on." He gathered up the torch, switched it on. Gestured courteously, and she preceded him. She followed the light he played on the floor in front of her. Something about that pleased him.

He opened the bag on the bed. Rummaged through it, pulled out the girl clothing. "Sorry I couldn't find much."

Her expression softened even more. "Thank you, Riddick." She sat beside him, examined the clothes with an oddly relieved look on her face. Then her expression changed. "You didn't, uh, kill anyone for these, did you?"

"No." _Killed them 'cause they pissed me off._ He pulled out the jewelry, offered it to her almost shyly. She was watching him closely. "Didn't kill anyone for any of this." She took the jewels, examined them.

"Thank you. That was . . . sweet."

He pulled out the rope. Her eyes widened. "What's that?"

"Rope." He found what he was looking for, the liquor bottles. Opened one up, took a drink. Offered it to her. After a moment, she took a hesitant sip.

"Is that for me too?" She asked, nodding towards the coil with a false jocularity in her voice. "Didn't know you were into that stuff."

He nodded, sagely. "Good stuff, rope." Her body stiffened. He took pity on her. "In case we have to climb out of here or something." _Or, yeah, if I want to tie you up._ He smiled, affectionately. She seemed relieved. He pulled out the reader. "Found this too."

She smiled at him, started to laugh. "You old softy." She leaned against him like she used to when she was a kid. He liked it. He leaned back. Slipped an arm around her.

Then her tone changed. "What's that?" She was pointing at the gag half hidden in the rucksack.

"Don't worry about it."

"You're going to gag me?" Her voice rose.

"If I do bust us out of here, I might need to keep you quiet. They can make you scream, and all of your holy meditations ain't gonna stop that."

Her eyes were very big, and the moment where she relaxed against him seemed long gone. She took another drink. Looked fretful.

He let her go. "If they do, I can also give you a shot of these." Held up the needles. "Knock out drugs." She nodded. Gave him another longing look.

"What's up with you, kid?"

"Huh?"

"You've been acting weird."

"Tell me, Riddick, maybe you've got some experience in this. What is the normal reaction to being kidnapped by your own government and handed over to a homicidal ra—control freak.?"

He laughed, nuzzled her. "Kid, you sure got my number." Started nibbling on her neck. When she didn't respond, he whispered, roughly, "Anything I can do to make it better?"

Another deep shuddering breath. "Thanks, Riddick. But can you give me my life back?"

 _Not quite what I meant. Oh well._ He'd figure it out as he went. Or not. Unknotted the blanket. _Just like unwrapping a present_. He started to kiss her again, delicately, gently, and after a moment, she laid down on the bed, seeming to invite him to do what ever he wanted with her.

He was as gentle as he could be, taking it as slow as slow could be, kissing and sucking and fingering and nuzzling. She was back to passivity, but occasionally soft noises came from her throat, as if she did like it.

After far too long, she murmured something that sounded like "relax and enjoy." It bothered him slightly for some reason he couldn't pin to the wall. But then she gave him rueful smile and a deep kiss, and her small hands were stroking him. He redoubled his efforts and it wasn't all that long before she was spasming under his fingers. He was inside of her fast enough to feel her muscles still involuntarily, rhythmically contracting, pulling him in deeper.

Maybe because of that, or maybe only because of slow buildup, his own release was mind blowing. _Oh yeah. Relax and enjoy, baby. I could get used to this._


	11. Release Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He was back in the dream. He laid the dead woman down gently, turned around. Only this time, after an age of death, something changed.

He was back in the dream. He laid the dead woman down gently, turned around. Only this time, after an age of death, something changed.

This time, the dead woman sat up in the bed, leaned against the headrest, smoothed the bedspread. He noticed for the first time it was covered with a motif of snakes and trees, snakes and trees that seemed more real than anything he'd ever seen. And the woman also seemed more real, more alive, more enchanting than any person he'd ever known.

She smiled at him, as radiant as the reborn sun. "My beautiful boy." She patted the bed. "Lay beside me."

 _Dream's gettin' better at last._ He did. As soon as he settled next to her, they both seemed to fall through the pattern on the bedspread, fall into a garden of fruit trees and snakes. While it wasn't what he wanted, it seemed right some how to be leaning against a tree with this woman.

She reached up languidly, picked a piece of fruit with a heavy red peel. A knife precipitated from the air. She cut the fruit expertly and handed him a section. Blood red, full of seeds. It was sweet and tart and nothing had ever tasted that good. They ate in companionable silence.

Finally, she spoke. "My good and faithful psychopomp."

"Huh?"

She handed him another piece of fruit, her lips and fingers already stained blood red by the juice. He took the offered fruit silently.

"Know thyself. Do you?"

He shrugged. "They tell me I'm a monster."

"Yes. A monster, lurking in the dark, hiding from the light."

"Not hiding."

For an absurd moment, he was back in the cave, his arms wrapped tight around Jack, feeling her heart beat in his own veins. Simultaneously, surreally, he was watching the two of them curled up in the bed. Her eyes were open and filled with tears. He pulled her closer. Then he was back in the sunlit garden.

"Not always. You are a contrary child. There was a day you stood between the darkness and the flickering light. The hero of the day." Her voice was ironic.

He chewed, thoughtfully. The sweetness of the fruit seemed to transform in his mouth in to something savory, salty. She handed him another piece. Again, it started sweet.

"But usually, you take people through that threshold," and she nodded towards the yellow bedroom door that, incongruously, was standing in the glade, "and only one way."

"Lady, you aren't making sense."

The smile she gave him was pure delight. "The girl lying beside you understands." Again, the surreal dislocation, and he was back in his cave, entwined with Jack, his face buried in her hair. "Ask her."

"She's asleep."

"No, she's really not." She handed him another section of the fruit. Somehow, it was still whole in her hands.

"Ask her what?"

"Who you are? Are you just a monster?"

 _Okay, it's one of those dreams._ "Not lookin' for redemption, lady."

A chill fell over the garden. "It is not being offered. Not to you. Not today."

A bird shrieked. She stood, held out an arm. An enormous hawk landed on it, fixed him with a gimlet eye. "This is not about finding a cup or a sword or stone or a wand and being rewarded for saving the day. Though you might do that by accident. This is about becoming who you are."

The fruit in his mouth wasn't sweet any more, it was all blood. He took another bite under the watchful eye of the hawk. The sudden burst of sweetness made his eyes water.

"What's it to you, lady?"

She chewed, and the juice running down her lips looked like blood.

"One of my brothers," and the bird screeched, accusingly, "thinks he knows why you played the hero once. Thinks he can get you to do it again." Again, the surreal dislocation; he was kissing Jack's neck, thrusting into her, and he could see tears in her eyes. Enraged, he was on his feet.

"What the fuck do you want with me, lady?"

She smiled, beautifully, and his anger ebbed away. "The veils do not part so easily, my son, even to someone on the royal road. Let's just say I am going to give you a gift."

 _Another present. Liked the last one._ He grunted.

"That girl in your arms would die for you. Joyfully. In many lives, she already has."

Again, a surreal dislocation, and she was dying in his arms, bleeding from the sweet spot in the back that was his own signature killing spot. His own grief was a physical blow.

Then he was back in the garden. "She would die for you right now, joyfully. She gives you another chance to become who you are. Don't waste it."

"That's your idea of a present? Telling me some idiot girl would die for me?"

She smiled. The bird cawed, raised up, launched itself into the ethereal sky. "No. I'm going to give you a chance to be worth dying for."

Then he was back in the bedroom with a dead woman and a yellow door. Then he was in a cave with a girl, who was whimpering softly, nightmare shudders wracking through her. He wrapped himself tighter around her and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 **0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

The intensity of the dream had faded long before he woke. Looking at the sleeping girl, he could remember, dimly, the suffocating grief of her death. But it made no sense. He'd miss the kid, sure, he'd kill anyone who touched her, no fucking doubt, but to collapse from grief? It made no sense.

His hand was back on her throat, thoughtfully.

Her eyes opened. "Hail Ra."

"Huh?"

"Another good morning. Ra is a sun god. You're thinking of killing me again."

"Maybe a little."

"Is this going to be a morning thing with you? 'cause I'm thinking maybe we need separate rooms."

Even though her tone was light, her heartbeat fluttered fast under his fingers. He smiled, tenderly. Didn't move his hand. "Jack . . ." They gazed at each other.

After too long, she sighed. "Riddick, do we have to talk about this? I don't want to die. I accept that it's not my decision. Do you want me to beg for my life? I might, but I've noticed you're not good at doing things people ask you to do."

He leaned close. "You know me better than anyone, little girl."

"Do I?"

"Who am I?"

She swallowed. Her eyes got a distant look, and for another absurd moment, she looked like a younger version of the nameless woman from Danaan who haunted his dreams. "Richard B. Riddick. You're the sun during an eclipse. You're the hero who took the wrong path into the forest. You're the wolf that eats the sun. You're the boogey man who guards the threshold."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, almost unwillingly, he asked, "What's a psychopomp?"

She blinked. "Someone who guides souls to and from the underworld."

"Huh. 'nother one of your metaphors."

"Yeah." She licked her lips again. "Why?"

He shrugged, stared down at her, not sure himself. Finally, she said, as if the words were being pulled from her, "So, you gonna kill me today?"

He sighed. "Jack. Kid. I don't want you to die. I'd miss you."

"And killing me is better than me dying because . . ."

"I'm not letting them use you as bait. As some sort of hostage."

She met his eyes. "So you're gonna kill anyone you come to care about the rest of your life? We're all hostage to each other. It's the human condition."

He stared at her. _Human. Fuck that._ "There's worse things than dead, little holy girl."

She was quiet for a long time. Finally, "You telling me that because you think I don't know? I lived on the streets, Riddick. They weren't exactly sweet and generous."

He grunted. He had forgotten that. When she tried to sit up, he shook his head. She gave him a sorrowful look. "And that girl whose memories got downloaded into my head? They picked her because she was kinda pretty and no one cared whether she lived or died. She was just a commodity. Someone decided her highest and best use was to be tortured to death." The bitterness in her voice was almost palpable. "You really think I don't know what could happen to me?"

Long silence.

Finally, he leaned close, whispered roughly. "You're a lucky girl."

"You said. Because you're taking care of me?" There was something in her voice he couldn't identify.

"Yeah."

"I coming to conclude you have an idiosyncratic definition of 'take care.'"

"You callin' me an idiot?"

"What?"

"'Idiosyncratic.'"

"It means 'unique,' Riddick."

"Damn straight." He snorted. "I gotta piss. Don't go anywhere."

After he relieved himself, he came back. She had dressed in some of the clothes he'd appropriated from the dead. "Your turn."

She didn't move. "So . . . you aren't going to kill me today? Or just don't want me voiding my bowels when you do?"

He smiled, wolfishly. "Not today. Got better things to do with you today."


	12. Release Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After he'd fed her and fucked her, he decided to push her a little. They were working out, running through moves she'd known perfectly two weeks ago; not done for years. A fascinating process. After they'd both worked up a sweat, she asked, seriously. "So. I can't tell if you are planning on staying or going."

After he'd fed her and fucked her, he decided to push her a little. They were working out, running through moves she'd known perfectly two weeks ago; not done for years. A fascinating process. After they'd both worked up a sweat, she asked, seriously. "So. I can't tell if you are planning on staying or going."

"Depends a lot on you."

"I vote we go."

"Not what I meant."

"So 'on me' in another way?"

They traded blows. "Yeah. What game you're playin'."

"You think I'm playing a game with you?" She sounded incredulous. "Damn, Riddick, you are a piece of work."

He almost missed a step, hearing her echoing his own phrase. He pushed on. "The way you defended Abu for betraying you, the way you defended those soldier boys for bringing you down here-" He broke off for a moment. "Yeah. For some _greater good,_ you'd play me." He didn't try to hide the derision in his voice. "You'd play me. Every time you hint we should go on this do-gooder adventure, I think about that."

She gave him a heartbroken look. Broke off their exchange. Stared hard down at the ground. "I'm not. Maybe you're right; maybe I would have. But no one asked me to play along."

He snorted. "And if you're telling me the truth, that means Abu really set this up smart. I'm being fuckin' played by someone." He started the kata again, a little more aggressively, pushing her back.

After a long time, she said, quietly, "Look, I'm sorry about Abu. I really am. But he's a good man. If he thinks that's what it takes to save the world . . . can you really blame him for trying?"

"Gotta be pretty stupid to think I'm in the world saving business."

She didn't say anything, focused on the movement, the exchange of blows.

"Do you think they'd play straight with me? Your planet of do-gooders?"

"I don't know. A week ago, I would have said absolutely. But I have reason to think there are things I don't know about them now." She twisted her neck, ruefully.

They fought in silence. After a long time, Riddick decided it was time to teach her something useful, and he knew just the thing. He smiled.

"I want to show you something." She nodded. He mimed the motion of wrapping an elbow around someone's neck, yanking back. She copied it, almost perfect. He adjusted her angle slightly, and after two more times, she had it perfect. He could see in his head what muscles she'd have to develop. She already had the speed and the accuracy.

"So what's this used for?"

He moved behind her, slipped an elbow around her throat, pulled up with exaggerated care.

"Feel that? Feel how your neck twisted back?"

"Yeah." He knelt in front of her. "Try it on me, slowly."

She copied, almost perfect. Again, he adjusted her arm slightly, once, twice, three times, and she had it perfect.

"So when would you use this?" she repeated.

"Good kill move."

"Huh?"

"Killin' without a weapon. Come up behind them quietly, do exactly what you just did, but faster. Best if they never see you. You'll need a little more muscle, but not too much. We'll work on that."

"No."

"No?"

"You're not turning me into a killer, Riddick."

He stared at her blankly. "You're already a killer."

She flinched, but her voice was steady. "I've killed to protect myself and people I love. But you don't need to come up behind someone and break their neck to protect yourself from an immanent threat. This is an assassin's move. I'm not doing it."

"You tellin' me no, little girl?"

She stood straight. "Yes, Riddick. I'm finally telling you no."

"Thought you didn't want to die."

Her heartbeat spiked. Her adrenaline kicked in hard. But her voice was calm, resolute. "Like you said, there are worse things than death."

He made his voice gentle. "Kid, you've got the wrong idea. It's just . . . sometimes, someone's between you and where you're goin', and the only way to get through is to take them down. What if it's a guard whose gonna take you to your execution? What if it's someone who is gonna rape you? Lots of situations where you could be behind someone, need them dead."

She flushed, relaxed almost imperceptibly. "You could be right. But Riddick – I'm willing to adjust, but not that much. And if that doesn't work for you, you probably should just kill me."

 _Don't go so fuckin' noble on me._ "You need to stop worrying about that."

She started to laugh. "Right. I'll get right on that not worrying thing. Why don't you leave for a while so I have lots of time to fucking concentrate on it." Her volume and pitch raised on every word.

 _Why is she so mad at me?_ He grunted. "Kid, there's something wrong you still aren't telling me. And you're mad at me for not figuring it out. I give. Tell me."

She exhaled, a long descending slide. Seemed to get control again. She ran her fingers through her hair, ended with her hands on the back of her neck. "You're right. I want you to figure it out."

"Would it help if I threatened you?"

She was mad again. "Fuck off."

In an instant he had her pinned on the ground. "Tell. Me."

She was furious enough to almost spit the words out. "Okay. Someone puts some fucking thing in my neck that says I'm your property, and you act as if my opinion isn't worth asking."

"Is it?" he said, his voice velvet over steel, needling her.

"Guess not, as you never fucking bothered." She took a deep breath, calmed down with visible effort.

"Don't you want to be mine?" He ground himself against her, slowly. "You haven't exactly resisted."

She started to laugh. "Riddick, I'm not exactly suicidal either. Look, I'm not going to say I never fantasized about spending the rest of my probably short life in bed with you. I did. But in my fantasy, you wanted me. You . . . you courted me. It wasn't just that I was handy and really can't say n-" She stopped, took a deep breath. "It wasn't just that I was handy."

He snorted.

"So tell me, big guy, if Johns had stuck this thing in your neck proclaiming you were his, would you have just accepted it?"

He sighed. Nuzzled her. "Kid, look, you think too much. And I didn't stick this thing in your neck."

The anger seemed to go out of her. "No. That's right. It's not your fault. But don't deny you like it."

He grunted.

"Even though it marks me as property. Just like that girl whose death I got to live. Even though it means that someone can" – she was tearing up again - "even though it means anyone, including you, can hurt me and there's not a thing I can do about it."

"That part does suck," he agreed, philosophically.

She tried to shove him off of her. He just held her against him as she struggled. When she finally stopped, he pulled off the goggles, stared down into her green eyes. "Think about this, kid. I'm the bad guy. If you choose to be with me, then you're the bad guy too. Better if you're still just the innocent victim."

"Your innocent victim." Her voice was flat.

"Mmmm. I _like_ the way that sounds."

"This isn't the life I want."

He leaned close enough to taste her breath. "You think I got the life I wanted?"

That seemed to penetrate. "I'm sorry."

He leaned back. "Don't be. You didn't do it. And are you seriously going to tell me you want me to let you go down here? They'll rip you apart."

She calmed down. _Good little holy woman._ "I just wish – I just wish it wasn't just me thinking I should have some say in all of this." Her voice was full of woe.

He let her get up. She stumbled back. He smiled at her, feeling very affectionate, protective, even, maybe, loving. Pitched his voice rough, low. "Jack. Yeah, the fact you're handy is not irrelevant. But the fact you're you is why you're alive. Ever been hogtied?"

"What? No."

"You try to leave without me, I'm going to hunt you down. I'm going to bring you back. And next time I leave, I'm going to hogtie you."

He gently kissed the forehead of her shocked face. Went looking for Tireseas. Tried hard not to think about killing her. About the satisfying snap her neck would make. About how good her blood would taste.


	13. Release Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's note – this chapter goes dark. We leave the land of the semi-nonconsensual. I have my reasons, but if you don't want to go down further into the dark levels of the labyrinth, this is not the chapter for you._

A few hours later, he found the old man following a vein that was mostly played out

 _Author's note – this chapter goes dark. We leave the land of the semi-nonconsensual. I have my reasons, but if you don't want to go down further into the dark levels of the labyrinth, this is not the chapter for you._

Not so many hours later, he found the old man following a vein that was mostly played out. No one else was around.

Riddick watched for a while. Noted a familiar smell. The stink of military hung on the air. They had been there. Finally, he stepped to the edge of the little pool of light.

"Tireseas."

"Hey, man." The older man put down the tiny pickaxe, took a drink. "You've caused quite a stir."

"Tell me."

"People sayin' you killed Crustus."

Riddick shrugged.

"By stomping on his neck."

Riddick smiled.

"People sayin' you got that girl the soldier boys brought. Some people are real interested in that."

He shrugged again, not smiling any more.

"And those soldier boys are asking folks about you. Asked me about you."

 _Wonderin' when you were gonna get to that._ "Yeah?"

"They heard we're close. Told me they got a mission for you. That you succeed, you'll be rich and forgiven and you can keep the girl. Or give her back her life. The blond boy was real intense about that."

 _Keep the girl, kill the girl, or . . . give up the girl?_ After a moment, Riddick pulled a handful of opals out of his pocket. "Here."

"Thanks, son." The stones disappeared into various pockets. I get the feelin' they aren't going to leave without talkin' to you."

Riddick paused, ran a hand over his head. "I'll think about it." Tieresias nodded. He looked like he was weighing whether to say something else.

 _What the fuck._ He could always ignore it. "What?"

"They say they want you to kill a Necromonger. The Necromongers need killin', son."

"Who doesn't?" Riddick said lightly, though his skin prickled. Headed back for the cave. Time to make nice with Jack.

 **0o0**

He rolled the rock back, eased the long way around the cavern. Taking the time to sus out if she'd tried to worm herself away again. He was mostly pleased that there were no new sign she'd tried to escape. Instead, she was curled up on the bed with a blanket tossed over herself, reading something called "Job" on the handheld. She was also pointedly not looking at him. He lowered himself beside her, laid a heavy hand on the small of her back. "Hey, kid, miss me?"

Without looking up she responded archly, "Oodles. No one's stuck something inside of me or kidnapped me or threatened me for hours and hours. This keeps up I won't know what to do with myself."

He caressed her back, lovingly. "Life's tough, my little holy woman."

She finally gave him a strange look over her shoulder. "Last I heard, you don't like holy things." Her voice was sad.

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm makin' an exception for you. Look, kid, I'm sorry I freaked you out. But all sorts of things could happen to you. I don't want you leaving here without me. It's not safe."

The arch note was back in her voice. "Right, because the scary monsters might kill me."

 _Right. Kill her._

 _Like I might._ Weirdly, he felt a little bad. He pitched his voice soft, seductive, ran his hand up her back, still over the blanket. "I told you I wouldn't do it today."

"Night cometh. And then the dawn. Somewhere."

He didn't have an answer to that. He kept his hands on her body, enjoying the feel of it, even through the layers of cloth. Feeling itchy about the fact that she didn't want to be with him.

"Do you have a place to go?"

"You mean, if you ditched me again?"

"Something like that. Would you go back to New Mecca?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. But I've got options. I could hook up with the terraformer's guild. I'm a member. Or I did join a church. We look after each other." Her voice became slightly wistful. "I could try to hook up with my own crew. They were headin' to a new project in the Gamma Orion system, trying to terraform Kalistos. Spent a long time on that project. I'd regret not seeing it through. Though that might just get me handed over to New Meccan law enforcement, and it's a little no-mandy out there to risk with this damn thing still in my neck." She stopped, seemed to think about it for a moment. "Why?"

 _I want to know where you'd run too, if you got the chance._ "Just thinking through the options." He slowly removed the blanket, started to run his hand up her back, gently, above the clothing. She shut the reader down, rolled off her side, onto her stomach.

"That feels nice."

"Yeah." He eased both hands under her shirt, pressing her skin. Started to knead the muscles. "Lemme get this shirt off."

She hesitated, then lifted up slightly, letting him take it off of her. He started at her shoulders, pressing, caressing, kneading. Worked his way down the spine, feeling the muscle tension dissipating. Kept his touch fairly light. Firm enough to do good; gentle enough to feel good.

After a long time, she said, almost grudgingly, "That feels _really_ nice." He worked his hands around her sides, taking his time, focusing completely on her.

 _She wants me to ask._

 _I don't have to ask._

 _What the hell. She's a good kid._ "You're beautiful." He made his voice thick, throaty, earthy.

She sighed, if possible, relaxing even more. "Thank you," she whispered.

He slipped his hands down her thighs, up slowly. "I love the way you smell." He buried his face in the back of her neck, traced down with agonizing care.

She made a soft noise. There was a slight smell of her arousal. _Good girl._ He made his touch more sensuous, more suggestive. She stayed passive. Receptive, but not eager.

 _What does she want to hear?_ "I love you." His voice was dark, rumbling, surprisingly sincere sounding.

Her voice was molasses heavy. "I know, Riddick. In your own idiosyncratic way, you've always loved me. That's why you left me."

In response to his quietly insistent fingers, she lifted her hips, letting him slowly ease away her skirt, leaving only the bone necklace of her old life. He was kissing the soft skin of her newly bared hips, hardly listening. Once the taste of her was in his mouth, it was increasingly difficult to maintain control, or even awareness of what she was saying. Still, he tried hard. After a moment, she continued. "I love you too, Riddick. Always have. I'm sorry I'm not . . ." Her voice trailed off.

She continued softly. "Even though I think you're going to be the death of me."

He sighed. Rolled her over, started kissing his way from the hollow of her throat to her pelvis, concentrating on not loosing control. After a long time, he lifted his mouth from her body. "I wish you weren't so god damn smart, Jack."

She smiled at him, a genuine smile, her eyes heavy lidded with pleasure. She ran her hands over his head, gently. "Not a superpower, but it'll have to do." She guided his face up to her lips, and they were kissing, and she wasn't passive any more. Conscious thought fled as he lost himself in her.

 **0o0**

The third morning, she was up before him. She was running through their old routines in the cleared space, with a single torch set on low. The shiv he'd made her long ago held loosely in her hands. She was wearing one of the outfits he'd found in Crustus' cave, the short skirt flapping around her legs like she was some sort of comic book super heroine. She had even improvised a good sized carrying pouch. She looked like some sort of ancient hero, ready take up the quest, rescue the princess, save the kingdom. Just needed a sword strapped across her back and a blaster on her hip.

He watched her quietly, eating a slow breakfast. She kept glancing at him through slitted eyes. Finally, she stopped. Looked at him directly, knife still in hand. "So, we didn't get our normal 'I'm thinking of killing you today ritual' in. Wanna do it now?"

He smiled at her. Ignored her question. "Doin' good kid. Didya practice what I showed you yesterday?"

"Yeah. A little."

"Lemme see."

She dropped into a fighting stance, knife still in hand. _She tryin' to tell me she'll fight for her life?_ It all seemed impossibly cute. With exaggerated care, he approached. They traded blows. Traded again. And again. Soon they were spinning, feinting, ducking, dancing across the sands. It was fun. He could get used to this.

 _Let's see if I can get under her skin._ "So your soldier boy, Luke." He threw a punch.

She evaded the blow, but it pushed her back. "Yeah?"

"He was talkin' to a guy I knew. Says if I kill this Lord Marshal, they'll make me rich." Tried a hold at nearly a quarter speed. She evaded it easily.

"Good for you."

"And pardoned." He tried the hold again, this time at half speed. It gave her more trouble.

"Cool."

"And I still get to keep you."

She faltered a little bit, making him pull a punch. He frowned at her, but didn't press the advantage. "Yeah, they told me that too."

"Or I could give you your old life back."

She jerked back, disengaged, gripping the knife too hard. "Would you?" Her voice was shaky.

He pushed the attack, forcing her to defend herself despite her distraction. "Now why would I do that? I like having you . . . handy."

Her concentration completely broke, letting him break lazily through her defenses. Spun her around, got a hand around her throat, used it to yank her close. Plucked the knife from her hand, tucked it into his own belt. That same arm went around her waist, almost affectionately. Somewhere in there, he grazed her lip with a fist, or maybe she bit it. Blood trickled down her face, down her chin.

She raised a shaking hand to her face, pressed her fingers to her lips. They came away bloody. He watched them, enchanted.

"Hmmmm . . ." he loosened the grip around throat, used that hand to take control of the bloody fingers. Thrust them into his own mouth. Sucked the blood off, lingeringly.

She was trembling.

He pulled her fingers from his mouth, pressed them back on her lips. "I like having you," he whispered, lovingly. "Why would I not have you?"

Her voice was small. "You could still be with me. Be part of _my_ world. It's a good world. If they'll pardon you . . ."

"The life of a New Meccan terraformer." He spoke carefully, precisely, fighting the urge to thrust her down, thrust down deep into her. "Making worlds of light. What would I be in these worlds of yours?" Even to his own ears, despite his efforts, his voice was rough, low, the growl of an animal. He thrust her fingers back into his mouth, knowing dimly he was suckling.

"You'd be with me . . ." her voice cracked.

He made his voice heavy and sweet. "As what? Your husband? Would you marry me, Jack?" He swayed back and forth like they were dancing, like he was a cobra winding up for the strike.

She wasn't trembling any more, she was shaking. "What are you asking me?"

"Should I plant babies down here?" The hand that was pinning her, almost of its own accord, was inside the dead slave girl's shirt, caressing Jack's belly, breasts, fingering her nipples thoughtfully. "Keep your house, get fat and lazy like one of your pets while my children eat you?" He pressed her unresisting fingers against her bleeding lips again, then kissed the blood off.

"Would it really be that bad?" Her voice was small, heartbroken. _She's gonna cry,_ he realized distantly. It made no sense.

"Bad?" He gripped her tightly, lovingly, trying to comfort her. Ran a slow hand under the waistband of the dead slave girl's skirt. Turned her around to face him. She stood stiff, heartbroken.

"No, not bad. It'd be nice. Just . . . inconceivable." Bent to kiss her. She shook her head, kept her lips closed. He didn't care. He was after the trickle of blood running down her lip, down her chin. Kissing, licking, drinking. Nothing had ever tasted so good. She was trying to pull away, making small unhappy sounds deep inside. Finally, he eased back slightly.

"Hey, holy girl. Isn't blood one of your metaphors?"

Almost woodenly, she responded, "It's good to give blood. It binds us."

He grunted approval. Ran his fingers up the flow, gathering up more of the blood. He thrust his fingers into his own mouth. Tasted again, this time with her eyes on him.

It was beyond intoxication.

He brushed her lip with his fingers again. She shuddered, tried to move away. He wrapped the arm around her tighter, shaking his head, feeling his eyes soften. He dipped his head languidly, kissed her lips harder. Focusing on the blood. Drinking the blood. It was like he was teetering on the edge of something completely new; better than the first time he'd had sex; better than the first time he'd gotten drunk; better than his first kill. It was like the blood itself was a psychedelic drug.

There were tears trickling down her face. They tasted good too. She was struggling now, trying to pull away. He wouldn't let her. Her growing panic was an elixir. Asked, low and sweet, "Didn't you say it was good to give blood?"

"Not like this. I don't like this." Her voice cracked, yet again. "Please stop it, Riddick."

"Make me," he whispered. She was fighting in earnest, trying to kick and bite and wriggle away. It was wonderful. He started to laugh, delighted with her, even as he slapped her blows away like they were mayflies.

She was angry now. "Fucking stop it!" She was trying to get a hand into the pouch she was carrying. He pulled it off of her, tossed it away toward the pool. She tried to lunge after it. He wouldn't let her.

The fading part of his brain still capable of conscious thought knew he was laughing, shoving her face first onto the ground, pinning her with his thighs. Getting his own pants partially down. Pulling her up onto her knees. Pausing for an instant, caressing a breast gently. Enjoying the weight of it in his hand. Felt like something valuable. Felt like something his.

She was sobbing, struggling. He couldn't remember why any more; his own tiny spark of remaining consciousness dwindling away, swamped by the intoxication of her blood, by dizzying anticipation. He loved her completely, she was everything worth taking in the universe. And she was trying to get away. _Fuck that._ He hooked an elbow around her throat again, pulled back slightly, almost sorry when her body went limp, stopped fighting. He positioned her with his other hand, rearranged her clothes, thrust in hard.

Her body itself resisted, feeling strangely dry. He made up for the lack of slickness with force. Hurt a tiny bit.

Something was tugging at his attention. He knew, dimly, he should figure out what it was, but he couldn't, overwhelmed with the sheer deliriousness of the body. Consciousness faded.

One last thought. He was never letting this go. _Never_.


	14. Release Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After an eternity of pure bliss, he was pulled back to the world by the vague realization that Jack was choking. _Jack._ _Choking. Right. Not good._ He loosened his elbow from around her throat, and she coughed and gasped, as if frantic for breath. Concerned, he pulled himself off of her, let her go. She collapsed on the white sands, still coughing. After one last rattling bout, she tightened into fetal position away from him.

After an eternity of pure bliss, he was pulled back to the world by the vague realization that Jack was choking. _Jack._ _Choking. Right. Not good._ He loosened his elbow from around her throat, and she coughed and gasped, as if frantic for breath. Concerned, he pulled himself off of her, let her go. She collapsed on the white sands, still coughing. After one last rattling bout, she tightened into fetal position away from him.

 _That might have been a bit much._ "Hey," he said, softly. He crouched beside her, caressed her shoulder gently. She flinched away as if his touch hurt.

"Let me see, kid." She shook her head, made a strange keening sound. He rolled her over, triggering another round of coughing. He ignored that, tracing his fingers over the lurid red marks that would soon ripen into deep bruises. Her face was smeared with blood. Still in the warm glow of bliss, he leaned down, licked some of it off.

She shuddered, went absolutely still. Locked her eyes on him.

"Do it," she whispered. Her voice was low and rough. _Her larynx is bruised,_ he thought, clinically.

He shook his head, smiling, not understanding.

"Do it or get the fuck away from me." The loathing in her voice was almost a physical blow. He rocked back.

"Come on, Riddick. Do what you wake up longing to do. You'd be doing me a favor."

He stood, took a step back, still smiling. "I'm not going to kill you, Jack. Not today."

She struggled to her feet. "'Cause you're gonna rape me again? God damn it Riddick-" she was beginning to cry. "You were my hero. My best friend. You fucking, fucking monster."

"Jack . . ."

"I loved you. I got _tortured_ for you." The words were spewing out, almost unintelligible, mixed up in barely defeated sobs. "I lost my life for you. I was willing to lay back and let you fuck me, but god damn it Riddick, that was disgusting."

He just shook his head, still not understanding. "Kid, I'm sorry I got carried away, but you're overreacting." He tried to humor her. "What happened to my serene little holy woman?"

"Even if you are some sort of dark messiah, you don't get to do this to me." She almost fell. Rallied. "God damn it, "I was willing to play along when I thought – when I thought you'd step up, save the day. Even when I thought you'd be half way decent to me. But you're not and I'm done being the sacrificial victim."

His smile was gone now, the good feeling replaced by irritation, and a growing sense of something else he couldn't quite identify. _I'm done with this._ "Don't go picking a fight with me, little girl. You won't win. And the only way you are gonna get through this is with me."

There was dirt on her face and a trickle of blood was dripping down her lip. She wiped it off with the back of her hand. "Yeah. I know. It's Riddick or the abyss."

He nodded, slowly, liking the sound of that. "Riddick or the abyss." He stepped further away, turned off the light. "I know you're afraid of the dark, baby." He smiled, remembering how she'd crumbled against him in the dark before. He heard her take a deep, shuddering breath.

It took a moment for even his eyes to adjust. Before they had, he could hear her moving fast. Then a wet noise, like someone slipping into a pool of water.

"It is not the dark that frightens me, Riddick. It's the horrors that lurk in the darkness." Her voice was a low whisper, her words oddly formal, almost like a wedding vow he'd heard once. _I Riddick, take thee_ – _where the fuck did that come from_? She was standing in the pool.

Her voice was bitter. "Hail horrors."

She slipped under the surface.

The sound of a rock moving. A quiet tremor passed over the surface of the water. He took a step towards it, but something stopped him.

The water drained abruptly. A pause, then the sound of a splash. The air pressure of the cave itself changed. Then the whole pool collapsed into a cavern below. He started to run forward, but more rocks collapsed under his feet. He threw himself backwards just before a rockslide claimed more of his cave with a roar.

When he was sure more of the cavern wasn't going to dissolve, he crept to the edge, peered over. The water was roiling like it was full of fighting monsters.

Off to the side, a light was disappearing down a tunnel. "JACK!" he bellowed. The light moved away faster. Then it was darkness.

 _She planned that. She had a light in that pouch and an escape route planned out. To escape from me._ He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or furious. He readied himself to dive in after her, but something stopped him. Peered down again. To much rock had fallen. Eight meters down, the force could kill him if he hit anything.

The intricacy of the flat stones lining the pool finally made sense. _It must have been set up by the guy who built this place. He probably put the pool over there just for that reason. She must have figured it out. Smart enough not to tell me. Fuck. Gonna have to do this right._

That treacherous voice was back. _She won't be glad to see you_.

 _Rope. I need rope._ Found the rucksack. Tied a loop around a sturdy rock formation, let it dangle. Set the rest aside.

 _She won't be glad to see me._ Suddenly, he wished there really were monsters down here, so he could lurk until one attacked her. _So what, you can rescue her and she'll love you again?_ He snorted at himself. _Only monster down this deep is you._

He started scrabbling through the bag for the knock out drugs.

 _The only monster down this deep is you. You're gonna save the girl?_

 _Weapons._ Added a few to his normal arsenal.

 _You can still taste her blood. You wanted – you still want - to bite, to rip, to rape –_

 _To eat her._

 _First aid kit._ He hesitated. Retrieved the pack she'd gotten from the soldiers. Not a thing he'd normally wear, but it was waterproof and he didn't know what sort of condition she would be in. Stuffed in a first aid kit, a blanket, some rations, water.

 _Scanner._ Again he hesitated. Jack would not be happy to see it. Had a sudden image of her tied hand and foot, screaming impotently into the gag. _Bitch. Teach her to run from me._

Almost savagely, he thrust the scanner into the pack. _You are a fucking piece of work, Richard B. Riddick. Do you really want to be the sort of guy who beats up his girlfriend?_

 _Girlfriend? Where the fuck did that come from? She's not my girlfriend._ His thoughts skittered away from the question of what she was. Any rate, he was dead certain she wouldn't describe him as her boyfriend. Especially now.

 _Okay,_ the treacherous voice inside of him continued. _Let's think about that. Do you really want to be the type of guy who beats up the girl he's fucking?_

He looked for the gun. It wasn't where he left it. Neither were the drugs.

 _I do, and she bolts again, tries to kill me, or . . ._

 _Or she becomes the type of girl who gets beat up by the guy who's fucking her._

 _Fuck._ Gave up finding the drugs and the gun. Noticed, dimly, she'd grabbed her pouch. Double checked the line, and lowered himself, gingerly, into the blood warm water below. Had to find her before she got hurt.

Swimming was not his favorite thing. Did it anyway. Followed her damp footprints to an enormous cavern. Its vaulted ceiling seemed to be falling in arches. Reminded him of a cathedral he'd visited once, to see a soprano.

As he searched, he remembered that soprano. The boy was beauty itself; the face of an angel; the voice of a god. He watched him sing for nearly an hour; the boyish voice soaring above the choir.

The boy died that night. One quick thrust to the heart. Seemed a pity to crush that glorious throat or mar that beautiful face.

Thinking about that boy, something hit him hard. _I let myself be sentimental about the dead. Never the living. Except for Jack. And since I'm sentimental about her, I might make her dead._

 _You're not going to kill her. Like she said, you like fucking her too much._

The cavern had multiple exits. Looked like she'd checked out several. Found one that had her smell the strongest. Followed it.

 _No, you like raping her too much._

He forcibly derailed that line of thinking. Not useful. Just had to find her. Just had to find her.

Time faded away. He'd spent his entire life in a maddening labyrinth, looking for a woman who was bleeding. _She can't have that much blood in her._ Yet he kept finding splashes of it. _Bleeding into the abyss._

Despite the clear trail, despite the fact he had to be moving faster than her, he couldn't find her. He'd found places she'd been, sure enough. One forgotten miner's outpost where she'd raided the supplies there. He was glad she'd found supplies. Worried about what else she found. He was stalking down a tunnel he'd stalked down before when he heard something. A deep rumble grumble. The tunnel shook.

Then a mouth large enough to swallow him whole emerged from the darkness. A snake, nearly as big as the tunnel. Moving fast. _Fuck._

He pressed himself into the wall, hoping the thing would pass just him by, going on what ever business giant snakes in tunnels went on. No such luck. The questing mouth smashed towards him. He dodged just in time. It gouged a hole in the tunnel wall.

Mercifully, the body itself was clumsy. Riddick took off running the way the thing had came, running past the body of the beast itself. Took a while. It was at least sixty feet long. _Good. Won't be able to turn around easy._

Didn't need to. It smashed him against the wall with its body. He managed to pull a shiv from a sheath. Drove in with all his might.

The knife skittered, grazed the skin. Didn't penetrate, but it did get the thing's attention; it arched away, started moving faster. _Tryin' to get that mouth near me._ _Damn._ As the giant head whipped back, he threw himself forward, past the teeth. Tried to think it through. Hadn't seen eyes or ears. Probably smelled with its mouth. Not good. No obvious vulnerabilities.

The thing made a screaming noise. _What is this thing?_ Was that a real exoskeleton? He wasn't sure. The material was rigid, almost more like tree bark . . .

Tree bark. Cut a circle around a tree, it dies.

 _Eventually_.

He dodged again as the teeth came down. It could smell him. Could it really feel?

Maybe not. Why feel? It was diving through rock.

 _Wish I had some grenades._

 _I don't. So think this through._ Considered the body. It was a worm. Segmented.

An idea finally hit him. Pulled another knife, a long, thin one, out of his sleeve. Thrust it in hard, right where two segments joined. It slid in like it was butter.

The worm screamed, thrashed. _It felt that. Didn't go deep enough, though._ Without taking his eyes off of it, he reached back into his pack, pulled out the rope. Was gonna take all of it. _Oh well._ He wrapped the ends around his palms, folded the interior carefully so it wouldn't tangle when he released it, took a deep breath, and ran directly for the worm's head.

He let the middle section of the rope drop as he made a running jump, vaulting on top of the worm's head, the rope neatly coming down beneath. Now he had the worm in a noose, and he began to pull. The rope caught in one of the segment gaps, caught.

The worm smashed him against the irregular roof of the tunnel. The first blow knocked the air from his lungs. Stunned, it was all he could do to hold on, gripping the rope as the worm smashed him up again, and again, against the rough ceiling. He could barely hear the crack of his own ribs.

Finally, he got enough breath to start to wind the rope up around his wrists. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the flesh began to give. The worm screamed, tried to smash him again, but the solid flesh finally relented. Suddenly, the thing seemed to loose structural integrity, and the rope sliced upwards, upwards. A smell like no other, sulfur and acid and something sickly sweet. Then he was falling in between two sections of worm. He hit the ground hard, slid and sprawled on the slippery, gritty, worm guts.

The two sections of the monster were still quivering as he struggled to his feet. Slowly unwound the rope from his bleeding palms. Let it drop to the ground, feeling a sense of loss he did not associate with objects. Did not associate with anything. _Maybe one woman. Maybe once._ But he couldn't bear the thought of those threads touching Jack.

 _Touching Jack. Damn._

He had won. At a cost of four cracked ribs. A concussion. Cuts on his back where he'd been crushed against small rock formations. Bruises up and down his back. Palms bleeding where the rope had cut into his hands. The rope. He drew a long, curved shiv from a hip sheath, more for comfort than for defense.

 _Fuck. It's gonna be days before I'm in fighting shape. Right now . . . Right now, I'm not sure I could even win a fight with the kid._

Making his plan to simply throw her over his shoulder and drag her out of here problematic. _Shoulda taken time to find the knock out drugs after all._

He pushed his way past the quivering monster.

 _What the fuck am I going to do? Stalk her until I'm strong again? Use the chip in her neck to make her do what I want? That'd end any chance of her likin' me again._

 _What's the other option?_

He started to laugh. The pain stopped him in his tracks.

 _The other option is to ask. Tell her what she wants to hear. That you're sorry. That you love her. That you need her. That you fucked up. Fake sincerity, just for a little while . . ._

He pushed on, the endorphins in his system absurdly making him giddy, ebullient, sentimental. He could fake that. He could even make himself believe that, long enough.

Long enough to get her some place she could never escape. She was already marked with his name; there were places in the galaxy would never question a collar on her throat. A deep laugh was trying to break through. He stifled it. _Maybe I really should kill that guy for them. Make them promise that I get to keep her. Kill a king, get a girl. Her own planet backing me up if she decides to make a break for it._

 _Could just get a different girl. What's special about this one?_

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing except that she adores me._

 _No. She adored me. Until today._ He could hear her words in his head again. "I loved you. I got _tortured_ for you. I lost my fucking life for you. I was willing to let you fuck me, but god damn it Riddick, that was disgusting."

His good feeling crashed. Endorphins must have been depleted. He knew, intellectually, it was just a physical reaction. Still, he almost went to his knees.

 _She adored me, and I fucked it up._

He looked back at the worm, still glowing warm in the darkness. Some of its hearts were still beating. He shuddered.

 _She asked me not to cross one line. She was even willing to lie there and take it, if I let her pretend it wasn't rape._

 _Saving her was the best fuckin' thing I ever did._

He started walking again.

 _And now it's turning into the worst fuckin' thing I ever did._ He could still hear her choking.

He stumbled on, into the eternal darkness, going where his feet took him. They took it back to the cathedral cavern. He tried another passage that smelled of her. He was going to die down here, a lost beast without a kindly thread to guide him.


	15. Release Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After another eternity, he found himself back in the cathedral cavern, picking his way through enormous limestone boulders that had crashed down from the ceiling. _Fuck. I'm goin' in circles._

After another eternity, he found himself back in the cathedral cavern, picking his way through enormous limestone boulders that

After another eternity, he found himself back in the cathedral cavern, picking his way through enormous limestone boulders that had crashed down from the ceiling. _Fuck. I'm goin' in circles._

He left through another random tunnel.

Paused. Something was pulling him back here.

He came back to the cavern again. Decided to search it again. Maybe he'd missed something. He stood near the entrance way, tried to understand the room.

It was strangely dry. No water, only rock and sand that slid under his feet if he tried to move too quickly. The rocks were also strange. Vaulted arches that sometimes fell and maintained their shape on the sand. Places she could hide? No, he'd smell her if she was crouched behind some rock.

Figured the place was an ancient lake; multiple tunnels dumped into it, some quite high up on the walls. He counted the ways out, starting at a random spot. Twenty two. He'd tried two, the fourth and the thirteenth, edged slightly down the sixteenth. Really, two down, twenty to go.

But instead of leaving, he took a spiral path from the edge of the chamber, sweeping, looking for anything, anything at all, that could give him a hint of where she might have gone. The whole place smelled slightly of her. She must have spent some time here . . .

When he arrived at the center, exhaustion overtook him. He collapsed to his knees, drank greedily from his supply of water. Stared into the darkness.

Time for something new. "JACK!" he roared.

The only response was a fall of dust from the ceiling; the bouncing reflection of his own voice around the cavern.

He took a deep breath. Remembering Jack on her knees, praying. _What the hell. No one will ever know._ "Jack's gods. Give her back. I want – I want to take better care of her this time."

Lethargy descended upon him. His knees gave way, and he slumped against a centrally placed cubical stone. His eyes closed.

 **0o0**

He must have slept, because he woke up. But not in the cave. Once again, back in the grove on Danaan, lying among the trees.

 _Some dream. I still hurt._ He pulled himself up.

Jack was curled in fetal position next to him in the green grass. _Just like the dead girl in the box._ He touched her throat with his still bloody hands, feeling the slow pulse there. Closed his eyes at the bruises.

A sound. The woman from his last dream was standing above him. He lunged to his feet. She didn't even flinch. She just smiled.

"My dear boy." She ran her fingers over his hands, and the skin was whole and uncut again. She laid her hands on his chest. Suddenly the pain was gone, and he felt strong again.

He grunted, impressed, even knowing it was a dream. "You one of Jack's metaphors?"

The smile was intoxication itself. "So to speak. She prayed. Shall we grant her prayer?"

"Huh?"

The dream woman's smile deepened and she cupped his face with a surprisingly large hand. A disconcerting feeling like he was shoved through a wet and sticky membrane.

Then he was living in Jack memories him since she had come to this underworld. The initial pure liquid joy of recognition. _Of me. Has anyone else ever been glad to see me?_ He was her dark hero, her beloved older brother, come to make it all better. Sweet and unconditional love, like nothing he had ever experienced. Bliss. It felt good.

It hadn't lasted.

He felt her sick horror as Crustus's neck broke under his foot.

He felt her terror the first time he shoved her against the wall of a cave. The sick helplessness when the chip deployed. The surreal joy when he returned. The sick feeling in her stomach when he left her alone in the dark.

The rapes.

 _But I didn't know._

 _Like hell you didn't._

 _She didn't resist._

 _Didn't she? She usually laid there like a corpse. And like she said, would it have done any good?_

He was with her, lying on the sands in the dark, sobbing, alone, exiled, without home, almost without hope. Terrified he'd come back and kill her for it. Wishing desperately he'd come back, make darkest night glorious day. Sickly afraid he'd never come back and she'd die alone in the dark.

 _Stupid kid._

Fear for Abu. Fear for her home.

 _Stupid self sacrificing kid._

She persevered. He was her dark hero. Her beloved brother. Until the end. Until he'd thrown her down and unambiguously raped her. With his arm around her neck, locked in the very kill position she'd refused to master.

She thought she was going to die screaming.

Then he was back in to his own body, gasping on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do that for lady? What did I ever do to you?"

"To me? Nothing. You've been my good and faithful servant. You did it to her. She wanted you to understand. Seemed the easiest way to enlighten you."

He scrambled back to Jack. She seemed to be sinking into the soil, her body loosing coherency. The words came out of him without any conscious agency. "Is she gonna be okay?"

The woman shrugged. "That seems to be up to you." She smiled down at the girl, lovingly. "Poor girl. Hurt, unconscious, alone . . ." Her voice trailed away. Finally, she spoke quietly. "Her destiny was to be eaten by flying monsters, once upon a time. But you hurled others down the maw of old night instead of her. Gave her a chance to slip past the teeth in the darkness. It is not clear to me what her destiny is now."

He snorted, regaining his equilibrium. "Destiny's for fuckers."

The woman shrugged. "As you say. You certainly have worked hard to avoid yours."

That completely yanked his attention away from Jack. "I got a destiny?"

"Of course. Haven't you been listening? Your destiny is to kill a king."

He started to laugh. "Why the fuck would that be my job? Maybe y'all shoulda thought about that before dumping me in a garbage can, once upon a time." He spat out the last four words.

She shook her head, sadly. "My dear son, who do you think did that? The king you were fated to kill was trying to kill you to thwart your destiny. He and his hunted the children who could fulfill the destiny. He himself out of your mother's womb, wrapped the cord around your neck and pulled hard. Your mother's dying act was to stab him in the heel. He dropped you. He believed you were dead or dying already. He'd killed so many children that day he thought he knew the feel of it in his hands."

His insides cramped. It was all bullshit, he was sure. _My mother's dying act . . ._ "You're trying to get me to do what you want. To kill that guy."

"Yes, I am."

"I beat her destiny."

"Or maybe you just delayed it. She could still be killed by teeth from the sky. Especially since she wants to be a hero. She may try to undertake your task."

He snorted. "Great. Let her kill this guy."

"My son," she said, and something about her voice made him ache in a way he hadn't ached since he was a small child, "my son, sometimes people do defeat destiny. But most merely delay, at great cost to themselves and those around you. Submit gracefully, and maybe some of that grace will find its way back to you. And I will try to help you if I can. If you will let me."

He started to tell her to go to hell, but found himself arrested by poor Jack, fading into the ground.

"Help her."

She sighed, looked strangely sad. "Though much is taken, much abides. While it will not help you reach your destiny, I could give you both something you sorely need."

"What's that?"

"Mercy."

He stared at her blankly.

The woman smiled, sweetly. "Specifically, I could dim her memories. It would give you something few men like you are given; another chance. But why should I give you a second chance with the girl, Richard Balder Riddick, chooser of the slain? What will you give me?"

He wasn't prepared to answer that question. "They put something inside of her. Can you take it out?"

"Not the right answer, my son." Still, she reached down, cupped her hand under Jack's neck. The woman caressed it in a way that made his teeth ache. A chittering spider, like a tiny version of the ones he'd fought in a dream days ago, crawled out of Jack's body, on to the woman's hands. She gazed at it, thoughtfully. "I could." The spider crawled over her fingers.

He watched, fascinated. Abruptly, the words were yanked out of him. "She deserves it. Mercy."

"Yes. She does." She caressed Jack's face with the hand that bore the spider. Before he could react, it burrowed down into her flesh. "But that's not the criteria."

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

"The spider was planted by those who serve my brother. I seek no quarrel with him today. Succeed in the mission they have given you, and it will be removed. If that's what you want." She stood and walked away. Riddick followed.

"Lady, you are not making sense."

"Sense is not my realm, child. I do reveal mysteries, sometimes. Here's something you do not know. She believed for years you would come back for her. She spent those years preparing for that day. Including preparing against the chance you returned as a monster. They showed her your criminal record."

The forest went cold.

"Quite a resume. 78 confirmed kills. 1,440 more that authorities are reasonably certain were yours. Rape. Kidnapping. Tax evasion."

He glowered. The woman continued, unperturbed. "She is a realist. She thought about what that meant; she learned too many things you do not know. You will never find her . . . without my help."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want you to be my dark warrior. I want you to kill a king."

"Sounds hard."

"Yes. It will be."

He started to snort derisively. Thought about it. Met her eyes, a comeback dying on his lips. Her voice was soft. "Kill the king, play nice with my little novitiate, and I will give you another chance to save the girl. And I will fulfill your heart's desire. You will be alive and loved and hunted no more. Or you may live a quotidian life, alone. Your choice."

 _Weird dream, using words I don't know._ He shrugged. He'd mostly regained his equilibrium, though the surreality of riding the experience of a girl he was raping was still deeply disturbing. He managed to look down at little Jack, at the deep bruises purpling her throat.

"Which king do I have to kill?"

"Zhylaw, Lord Marshal of the Necromongers."

"Do I have to kill him first?"

The woman's lips twisted, cryptically. Knelt beside Jack, removed her ankh necklace. Kissed it, then pressed it into his hand, wrapping the cord around his palm. "No. A gesture of good faith. I will reveal her to you. I will give you a chance to make it right. What happened will seem more of a dream's version of her," the woman's lips quirked "of her fantastical fears and devastating disappointments than something that could possibly have happened to her. And she will believe whatever you tell her when she wakes up.

"Take the fourteenth passage way. It will take you home. And if you kill the king, I _will_ reward you better than you can possibly imagine."

She kissed him, and the air was swirling with crows.


	16. Release Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _She kissed him. He dissolved from the grove._

She kissed him

 _She kissed him. He dissolved from the grove._

 _There was a glint in the goddess's eyes. "And now profoundest hell receive thy new possessor. . ."_

 _She stretched. She walked through the garden, back to the melting corpse of the girl. She knelt down and stroked the dead girl's hair._

 _Flesh reformed. Skin smoothed. The body took a breath._

 _A woman emerged from the trees and gazed sadly down at the sleeping girl._

" _You interceded directly?"_

" _It was necessary. He went too far, Shirah."_

" _He killed her."_

 _The goddess shrugged. "I was with her. She'll come back from the dirt stronger."_

 _At Shirah's look, the goddess smiled. "Without her, we loose our one hold over him."_

 _The other woman swallowed. "So is he your new dark hero?"_

" _For the right prize, he'll do. He'll storm the gates of hell for her now, Shirah. He's always been a little in love with death . . . "_

" _. . . And the gates of hell will not prevail against him," Shirah murmured. "Poor girl. "_

 _The goddess shrugged. "Pity everyone who lives in such times. And I have done worse."_

 _Shirah shuddered and said nothing._

 _The goddess seemed to relent. "He asked me for mercy. For her."_

 _"Did you agree?"_

 _"I did. Sometimes I lie. Still . . ." she gazed down at the girl, who was not sleeping peacefully. "Still, it would be easier if she did not know just how dark her dark hero was."_

 _"He killed her," Shirah repeated._

 _The goddess made a dismissive gesture. "An accident."_

 _"Dea, he threw her down, wrapped his arm around her throat, and pulled. He knew that could kill."_

 _"You could be right. But what's the life of one girl against trillions?"  
_

 **o0o0o0o0o0o**

Riddick woke up. Felt like hours had passed. Felt like something had happened.

Something had happened. Jack's bone necklace was in his hand. It hadn't been when he fell asleep. The ankh was uncomfortably warm, like it had an internal power source. For a surreal moment, he felt like he was holding Johns' beating heart. _Johns. The man who wanted me to kill Jack._ He closed his eyes at the memory. He knew, deep down, that this thing was carved from Johns' bones. That Jack had been keeping a part of a man who wanted to kill her close to her heart.

He looked up. At first he thought there was something wrong with his eyes. The cavern seemed full of golden light, and he didn't even have to concentrate to see its color. The rocks were surreal, lurid reds and pinks and oranges. The whole room was too full of light, it almost hurt. It was like he'd been seeing through a filter darkly before.

Slowly, the light, whatever it was, seemed to be fading, though the surreal colors stayed. He stood slowly, his attention arrested by one of the gigantic arches of limestone that had fallen from the ceiling and partially shattered on the cave floor. He'd walked past it several times without noticing it particularly. Now, the whole mass still glowed like the dawn.

 _Jack, melting into the ground._

He understood. _She buried herself alive under that thing_. Probably missed her before because the rock had absorbed her heat and her scent for a long time before grudgingly releasing any. He crept towards it, not sure how quickly she could bolt away. "Jack?"

No response. Now that he was standing over it, he could see, barely, that she really had buried herself underneath, leaving only her face veiled by a lattice work of a splintered rock. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was cryo-slow.

He crouched, cleared away enough the rock from above her face to lay a hand on her face. She was too hot to the touch; her skin too dry. She'd tied one polymer heat reflecting blanket over her hair and partially buried the back of her head, somehow. _Weird_.

He started unburying her, carefully, afraid to make a mistake. She'd tunneled down under the arch of the fallen slab, but there were plenty of loose rocks that could slide down; plenty of traps she could have set. Finally, he had enough of her unearthed to tell that she'd wrapped another heat reflecting blanket around her body before she'd pulled the sand and rock back over herself.

 _To slow her heat from leaking out._

 _God damn, she's smart._

Except that she felt feverish, clammy. He pulled her out of her grave-like hiding space. Her muscles were slack and her heart beat slow. "Kid?" Nothing. Remembered the med scanner.

Drug induced coma. Very close to cryo, only without the life support systems that kept you alive in hibernation. With a sudden understanding, he opened the pouch she'd stashed under the rocks. The gun was on top of a half empty water bladder, the jewels he'd brought her, the gun, the reader, a light, some rations and four empty needles of knock out drugs.

 _That's what was in the pouch. She was ready to run._

 _Why didn't she shoot me?_

 _Because she loved you, you asshole._ He tossed the empty needles away, violently.

He uncovered her the rest of the way, pulled her unresisting body out of the rocks.

 _Fourteenth tunnel._ Remembered, dimly, he'd started counting at one, only tried four and thirteen. _What the hell._ Counted his way too it, secured her pouch around his own hip, lifted her into his arms. Even though he had to crawl backwards, dragging her at times through the cramped and winding tunnel, it felt like he was going in the right direction.

Eventually it dumped him out right outside a tunnel that he knew led directly to his cave. Jack's limp body didn't move once the entire time. Not a flicker of consciousness.

At last, he was at the threshold to his cave. He set the girl down, rolled back the rock. Only then did he realize his ribs really weren't broken, his various cuts and bruises already gone.

 _Some dream._

He carried the girl back to the tiny stream that remained, running through sand and rock. Laid a blanket down in the water someplace fairly smooth, stripped off her clothes, laid her down in it. Began to wash her gently. Her skin was painted with blood and bruises. The ones on her throat made his hands shake. A miracle she had not died underneath him.

 _He'd killed so many children that day he thought he knew the feel of it in his hands._

When she was clean at last, he carried her carefully to bed. Their bed. It had mercifully escaped sliding into the waters. Tucked her in. Suppressed the urge to tie her up, to make sure she couldn't bolt again. Stood back and stared down at her.

Something was tugging him. This time, he paid attention.

 _The soldiers had been here. They'd rolled the rock back, but hadn't bothered to cover their tracks._

 _Fuck._

He should leave. He should take her and leave. But despite the sleep in the cavern, he was too god damn tired.

 _Guess it was good we'd stepped out._

He tracked their progress. Several had crouched right by the place he had thrown Jack down and raped her.

 _Fuck._ He also crouched, touched the sands.

Blood and semen had soaked into those sands. _Probably a metaphor for something._ He grimaced. Jack and the dreams were getting to him.

 _Well, at least they know I'm not above seeing her hurt. If her soldier boy is right, that might be a good thing._

 _Definitely evidence._ Which they had. Still, he gathered up every scrap that was left, tossed it into the abyss. Rinsed his hands in the running water. Laid down beside her, wondering what the hell he should do next.

 **0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

She woke abruptly, hours later, waking him. Her hand was on his shoulder, uncertainly. Sometime that night, he'd rolled away from her. "Riddick?" she whispered, her voice confused, broken.

He rolled to face her. "Hey, kid." He was glad the darkness veiled the goofy grin on his face.

She was out of bed as if yanked into the sky by a flying monster. Panicking, scrambling away from him, fear and fury rolling off of her. _Shit._ Somehow, he restrained the urge to lunge after her. Remembered the dream. _She'll believe the first few things you tell her._

 _Worth a try._ He made his voice as gentle as he could. "Just another bad dream, kid. Been having them all night." She froze, bewildered, trapped between the fight and the flight.

He turned on the low torch by the bed. By its dim light, moving slowly, he took her hand and led her back to bed. Sat her down, an arm around her. She sat stiff, trembling. After too long, she buried her face into his chest, crying, heartbroken. He pulled her down into his arms stroking her hair awkwardly, letting her cry herself out.

After a long time, she pulled away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, brokenly. "Shit. I wasn't going to melt down in front of you again. Not over some stupid dream."

His voice was husky, even to his own ears. "It's okay, kid. You've been through a lot. I've got you." He broke off. _She'll believe . . ._

"Jack – you trust me." Trying hard not to make it a question.

She considered the question somberly. "Ends of the universe."

 _Shit, is she really falling for this?_ "And you love me."

She nodded, earnestly. "I love you. I always have. I thought you were – gone." She broke off, bewildered again. "It broke my heart. I wanted to die."

"Not gonna let you die."

She started to cry again, the heartbroken cries of a child. _Fuck, what now?_ After far too long, the tears tapered off. "God, Riddick, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Jack. You want to be with me, right?"

The persuasive glamour – or coincidence – seemed to be fading. "Been trying not to think about that. If I had a choice . . . You _and_ my life-" Her voice cracked. "In a heart beat. You, and not my life, and never safe, always stalking the dark edges . . ." her voice trailed away. "I'd miss my life. The one I want. I'd resent that I can't be the person I want to be. And I have this nightmare that I'll turn into some sort of monster. Eat babies. Rape corpses. Kill and never ask why." She took a deep breath.

He blinked. "You think I do those things?"

"I read your criminal record, you know."

 _Huh. Some dream._

"I have never eaten a baby."

She was staring at him with a the same type of horrified fascination he'd seen on the face of children hearing ghost stories, or stories about his own exploits. Horrified fascination he'd seen on her face not a month ago. With adult awkwardness about the actual concepts. Then she started to laugh.

"But you have . . . eaten . . . human flesh?"

"Nope. Well, maybe once or twice."

She shook her head. "I don't want to know." She smiled. Then her smile froze, slightly. She took a deep breath.

"There's something I gotta say before I wuss out again. I love you. I know me being here is not your fault. And I know I really don't have any choice, not with this thing in my neck. But what's going on between us – you alternating being my best friend and my – my kidnapper, my keeper, my ra—you deciding when we're going to have sex, all that's going to turn me into someone I don't want to be. I think that's why I – why I had the nightmares." She looked miserable.

He sighed. _Maybe I liked it better when she didn't trust me enough to say things like that. Oh well._ "I want you to stay with me." His voice was more abrupt than he intended.

She made her voice artificially light. "Your lucky day. Pretty clear that's gonna happen until you decide otherwise."

"I want you to want it."

The look she gave him was achingly intimate, and her voice painfully earnest. "Just keep being nice to me, Riddick. I'm half way there already. I've always been."


	17. Release Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It wasn't just a dream," Jack declared, her voice flat. She played the light from the torch on the waters below, gave him a sideways look.

"It wasn't just a dream," Jack declared, her voice flat. She played the light from the torch on the waters below, gave him a sideways look.

He shrugged.

"What happened?"

The silence stretched. Finally, Riddick answered. "Cave in."

"Centered on the pool. Were we in it?"

 _We?_ "No."

She paced along the edge, slowly, away from him. "I knew that could happen."

He didn't like her moving away, but he forcibly kept his muscles relaxed. "Huh?"

"Who ever dug the pool meant it as an escape route. It's a standard pattern. Kick out the keystone, and you could ride the flow out of here. Looked like the whole thing was designed to collapse behind you, to slow down whoever was chasing."

"You didn't tell me that."

She gave him a sardonic look. "Wasn't sure I could trust you when I figured it out. That was about the time you threatened to hogtie me if I tried to leave. Sorta figured you might take it badly." Her voice was slightly arch, but she had stopped moving.

"Smart kid." His voice had an edge.

She flinched. _Damn. Seem nicer, asshole._ He smiled at her.

She took another step away. "What happened?"

He ran his hands over his bare head. "You really don't remember?"

"Not a damn thing between the time we went to bed last night until I woke up from that damn nightmare. Nothing that's not a nightmare."

He sighed, letting his voice sink very low. Thinking of what lie to tell. "You were attacked here, I think. The cave collapsed. I tracked you. Found you unconscious."

"I don't remember."

"You got hurt. You got raped. I can remember good enough for both of us."

She stared at him hard. Finally, she started moving away from the edge, towards him. He felt some of his own tension diminish. "So . . . what now? This place doesn't seem safe . . . "

"Figure we'll go talk to your soldier boys. See if I like the rest of their offer."

She liked that answer, and she closed the distance between them fast. Her eyes were big and there was something like adoration in them. She kissed him impetuously. He couldn't help himself. He started kissing her hard, running his hands over her. She seemed to like it this time. Her body was sweet and yielding, her face strangely adoring, as if he'd never thrown her down and raped her.

 **0o0**

After a suitable rest, they packed what they needed and headed out. This time, he gave her a light. They hadn't gone far before Riddick froze.

A familiar roar. The tunnel snake.

 _I didn't kill it._

It was heading towards them fast.

 _Oh fuck. Did I just make two of them? Is that how they reproduce?_

He muttered to Jack. "Stay behind me."

She didn't, instead, she pushed past him, approached the monster. "It's just a gelf. It won't hurt us." And, to his shock, it stopped as she approached. "Poor thing, it's been hurt." She reached forward, stroking ridges where eyebrows should be. It made a purring noise.

His brain was not working

"Poor thing? It attacked me."

"A gelf attacked you? It must have been defective. Didn't register you as human."

He was staring at her, he knew, but her words were making no sense. "Huh?"

"A Genetically Engineered Life Form. A gelf." At his blank look, she elaborated. "These worm ones are supposed to build tunnels, pick up detritus, and make sure the air circulates. They aren't supposed to attack people. If one attacked you, there had to be something wrong with it. Or with you."

"Huh. Let's go." He grabbed her arm, pulled her past the thing. "We've got some guys to see."

"Yes master," she said, sarcastically. He gave her a blank look, but didn't respond.

Long after the monster had gone off into the darkness, she asked, quietly, "So what really is the plan?"

"Talk to the soldier boys. See if they make a good offer."

"And this thing in my neck?"

"I'll see what I can do." She gave him a fierce squeeze. They kept walking. "Look," he said abruptly. "That soldier boy. The one who likes you. He told me to not let the other ones know I like you."

"You like me?"

He snorted. Glanced at her sideways. "Yeah, kid. I like you. I missed you when you were wandering around down there without me. But maybe I should be an asshole while they are around."

She bumped him affectionately. "Think I'll notice the difference?" He gave her a dark look, but said nothing. After a while, she said, thoughtfully, "This whole thing is karmic justice, I guess."

"Huh?"

"I'm a terraformer. Ethically fraught. You're making worlds submit to your will. You're re-writing what they are at a fundamental level. There are people out there who think that is fundamentally immoral. Sometimes they even attack terraforming crews. That's a lot of why I've kept up on self defense stuff. The purists believe people like me are immoral; working against God. Going to a world and changing it, deep down, to make it my version of an Eden, a Utopia. Make it a means to our ends."

She touched the back of her neck, gingerly. "And now, someone does it to me. Fundamentally alters me to make me a means to an end. A means to you. To get you to kill someone. Change the world, deep down. Karmic justice. The whole thing is feeling kinda Stepford right now."

"Stepford?"

"Creepy old story about a town where the men kill their wives and replace them with robots. But they get them to cooperating in making the robots first. The women don't know what they are doing."

"Kid, you think to much." The way the conversation was making him uneasy. "It's just about getting through the night."

She shook her head. "No. It's about the day too. Doing right with your eyes open, thinking about what's going to happen in a thousand years."

He snorted.

"I liked it better when I was the one in control of the means and ends. Now I'm like one of those planets we seed. Like one of those robots. A means to someone else's ends."

 _What is she talking about?_ "So . . . You want a new career?"

She gave him an annoyed look. "As what, a sex slave? I hope that's not my destiny."

The word set off associations in his head. "I changed your destiny."

"What?"

"Your destiny was to be eaten by flying monsters."

"Who says?"

He didn't answer directly. "That's why I killed Johns. He wanted me to kill you, trawl your body behind us to keep the monsters off our tail. Didn't you know that?"

She stared up at him, fear flickering in her eyes. "No. I didn't know that."

They walked in silence. After a few minutes he took her hand, like he would have when she was a little kid. "Terraforming crews get attacked?"

"Yeah. True believers, mostly, who think we're interfering in the gods' plans. Sometimes pirates."

"So there could be a place for me in your world."

"Huh?"

 _That's right, she doesn't know we had that conversation._ "I could be your bodyguard."

"You'd do that?" Her voice was wondering, heartbreakingly hopeful. He almost felt bad.

"Yeah. If we really can get the bounty off my head . . ."

She was gazing at him raptly, the flicker of fear seemingly forgotten. _Maybe I could get used to being a good guy after all . . ._

At last, they emerged into the upper levels. The soldiers knew they were coming. They were waiting in a loose wedge formation. The leader regarded him calmly. "Richard B. Riddick?"

"Yup."

"Will you come with us, sir?" The courtesy of the question was odd. Riddick looked down at him quietly.

"What about my present here?" He finally asked, softly, his hand on Jack's neck, thoughtfully. Heard a suggestive titter hat made the hair on the back of his own neck rise. Jack flushed.

"That's why she's here, sir. For you."

Jack looked down, woefully. He let himself smile, slightly maliciously. "Mmm. Wouldn't be polite to say no, then, would it?"

The leader smiled back, slightly. "No, sir, it wouldn't." He pulled out a set of manacles, held them out to Riddick. "Do you want these?"

"What for?"

"For the girl." The man's eyes focused on the deep bruises on Jack's throat. "She was not cooperative?"

Riddick shrugged. "I think she knows to stick close to me now."

The leader let the manacles, and the matter, drop. "Fair enough. If you would come with me . . ."

"Not just yet. You authorized to discuss terms, soldier?"

"You kill a man. One million credits. A full pardon. A ship you can keep. And the girl."

"Five million. Half now, half when we're done. Pardon now. Ship now. And I _keep_ the girl."

The leader smiled. "Done."

 _Damn. Shoulda asked for more._ "She's got a chip in her neck."

"Yes sir."

"I want the access codes."

"When you're done."

Riddick hesitated. "Okay." Jack made a woeful sound. He smiled, hand still heavy on her neck. Luke's eyes nearly as heavy on him. He gave the boy a friendly wink.

"Let us take you to your ship, give you what you need to complete your mission."

 **0o0**

It was a good ship. Small, fast, with a tiny cabin, just big enough for two people if they really liked each other. Jack didn't even hesitate there. Went straight to the cockpit, sealed herself in the copilot's seat, started pulling up data files. He launched the ship without incident. Leaving her to her reading, he prowled around the ship, looking for tracers, bugs, traps, anything. The ship seemed clean, almost to his disappointment. He did find a small med kit, with a wand like the one the doctor had used to fix her hand. He pocketed it, came back to the cockpit.

She was pensive, staring at the streaming stars. She looked up at him, her green eyes haunted. "They are worse," she said, quietly.

"Huh?" He knelt down in front of her, showed her the medical wand. She smiled at him, and for a moment there was something like hope in those eyes. He ran it slowly over her neck, watching the bruises fade, healthy skin return.

"The Necromongers. They are worse than you. Really bad."

 _Worse than me?_ "We'll be far away."

"You're taking the money and running?"

"Taking the ship too. And you." He moved the wand up to her lip, now only slightly swollen. He closed his eyes, remembering the smell of her blood, what it had done to him.

She swallowed, almost as if she knew what he was thinking. Met his eyes, steadily. "It's your chance to do a good deed. Get redemption."

The marks on her neck were gone, and her lips looked healthy. "Not really my thing, kid."

She went quiet, chewed the inside of her cheek. "You don't think you need redemption?" Her voice was quiet and sad. He gave her a hard look. _Shit, what does she remember?_

She reached forward, caressed his face with one small hand. "You asked me once if there was anything you could do to get me to want to stay with you. There is."

He went very still.

"Maybe it's just the Stockholm Syndrome talkin' but – Save the Helion system. You try to kill this guy, and I'll be yours. Any way you want. You can even leave the chip in."

He reached for her face now, mirroring her caress. Pitched his voice soft. "You'd do this for them? For the people who staked you out to be eaten by monsters?"

"Yes. I would."

She wasn't flinching from his touch. Maybe she didn't remember after all. "Okay kid. You got it."


	18. Release Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Three days._

_Three days._

Three days after the nightmare fall of New Mecca, Minister Imam Abu al-Walid waited in a silent cell.

 _Don't let them set the terms of the fight_ , the Elemental had said. _Fight with the weapons you have. Fight on grounds you can win_.

They tried. They failed. And now billions of innocents must be dead or dying.

He had helped find the weapon. He had helped pick the grounds. He had helped the servants of the light send a monster to fight the monsters. He had gambled the life of an innocent girl on that mission. Betrayed a trust with his eyes open.

No, not gambled. _Spent_.

Spent. The military reported he had taken the bait. Taken the girl. They had given him a ship so he could take her ever further into the dark. And the monsters had come anyway.

Abu al-Walid had ample time to reflect on his poor judgment sitting in this cell. Necromonger soldiers had seized him and his family before the fighting had stopped. They'd been separated, and he had sat in silence since. Nothing to crowd out the sound of his little Ziza crying as she was carried away in the arms of a soldier, still spattered in blood.

The cell door opened silently. "Come," a soldier ordered, oddly polite. After the briefest of hesitations, Minister, and Iman, Abu al-Walid stood, and walked out of his cell. Four soldiers lead him through an astonishing city in the sky, full of twisted sculptures and beautiful, uncanny people.

They led him through what was obviously a throne room, to a small, dark antechamber. Two pushed him to his knees, gently enough. He did not resist.

A small tinkle of bells caught his attention. He risked a glance. The Elemental emissary, Aereon, was there. His eyes focused on her. She seemed unharmed. _A good sign_? She gave him a small, sad smile.

"Thanks, men. I'll take it from here." A deep, rough, _familiar_ voice ordered from the shadows. The soldiers bowed, spun on their heels, filed out. Only Aereon did not move. One of the shadows moved, coalesced, became a man.

"Riddick," Abu whispered, something like hope wildly flaring within him. "You're _alive_."

"Yeah." Riddick barked a laugh. _He's wearing Necromonger clothing. They did what he told them._ Abu's suddenly vaulting hope began to dive low. "Long time, no see old man."

"Riddick," Abu repeated, dumbly. "My friend. You're _alive_."

The slight warmth in Riddick's voice chilled to frost. "Surprised I made it, old man? Let's talk about the kid."

 _He has Ziza. He took her. Merciful god._ "Please. She's an innocent. Don't punish her for my sins against you."

Riddick stared down at him, expressionless. "Innocent. She _was_ innocent." Riddick stood heavily, walked to a window shielded with tinted glass. "And now she's dead."

 _Oh merciful god._ "Ziza's dead?" he whispered, brokenly.

Riddick shrugged, irritated. "Ziza. Cute kid. Not her."

"Jack." Abu breathed, horribly relieved. Riddick turned slowly, his face dark.

"Yeah, Jack. You told me you'd take care of her." Riddick's voice was heavy with disgust. "You said you'd keep her _safe_."

"The need was great," Aereon broke in. Riddick gave her an annoyed glance.

"One good thing I did in my life, and you fucked it up."

"It was complicated. We needed you."

"You used her as _bait_."

Abu rose to his feet. "Riddick, I know Jack. She would have volunteered."

Riddick stared at him. "Did she?"

Abu looked down.

"Tell me." Riddick's voice was flat.

 _Ziza . . ._ "We thought - I thought - you would be kinder to an innocent vict- girl."

"Huh." Riddick walked over to a large view screen, hit a control. A view screen showed Abu the rest of his family, safe and together. Abu was drawn helplessly to the screen.

"Is this now?"

"Yup."

"Thank the lord," Abu murmured. Riddick gave him another dark look.

"You do that."

Abu had a sudden absurd burst of compassion for the man. _Jack was Riddick's family. All he had._ "What happened to Jack, Riddick?" He asked, softly.

Riddick rocked back, as if repulsed by his soft tone. "Stupid kid. She did exactly what you wanted. Got me to kill the Lord Marshal. Then died savin' my life."

"Am I here so you can get your revenge on me?"

"No. Not on _you_. I promised Jack-" Riddick's voice actually cracked. He took a deep breath, started again. "I promised Jack I wouldn't hurt . . . you." Riddick backed further away, hit another button. The view screen changed, to show Riddick playing with Ziza, spinning her around as she laughed delightedly. Abu gave Riddick a sidelong look. _He thinks I took his family from him. He's taken mine._

 _He wants something from me._

Riddick's voice was abrupt. "Jack converted. Died a Necro."

Abu rocked back. He hadn't expected that. Aereon's eyes were sharp on them both. Riddick continued. "All these fuckin' Necros think they go to the Underverse when they die."

Ziza was safe. She even seemed happy. With a monumental act of will, Abu looked away from the screen, met Riddick's eyes. "What do you want, Riddick?"

Riddick smiled, grimly. "Been readin' their sacred books. Not my thing. But you're _good_ with books. You're gonna figure something out for me. Make me happy, you and yours can go play Happy Families anywhere in the universe you wanna go. Fail . . . maybe not so much."

Aereon took a deep, hopeful, breath.

"Kid died saving my life. Stabbed the old Lord Marshal in the back. He killed her. I killed him. Why I'm the Lord Marshal. If they're right, she's in the Underverse now. With him. With the man we killed. Because of you."

Riddick moved very close to the holy man. Smiled down on him.

"You're gonna figure out how I get her _back_."


End file.
